


The Reaper's Kiss

by JCMorrigan



Category: Tales of Berseria
Genre: Aifread is everyone's missing dad, All The Tropes, And also the cringe level, Angst, Assisted Suicide, Because this game did the work for me with this ship, Bittersweet Ending, Blood and Injury, But everything that's not Eizen and Rokurou is very background, But probably not in the way you think it is, But they definitely get physical, Canon Compliant, Drunkenness, For the first half of the fic anyway, Found Family, Growing up a Rangetsu must've really sucked, Hot Springs & Onsen, Hurt/Comfort, I also slipped in a trope here that APPEALS to me, I apologize for any glaring lore errors, I have never played Zestiria BTW, I listened to a lot of Sia and Billie Eilish writing this, I turned Katz Pajamaz into a sex club sorry not sorry, I wasn't even going to do Magiveleanor but it just happened, I'm glad we agree they all did the do in Meirchio, Lesbian Velvet, M/M, Mention of mutual masturbation, Mutual Pining, No one has sex onscreen because I still suck at erotica, Others are wholly original content courtesy of moi, Sad Ending, See if you can figure it out, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Some scenes are recaps right from canon with commentary, Take that character death warning seriously PLEASE, Team Bonding, That should hint at the feels in this fic, The other tags are here for sake of completion, The second half is NOT slowburn, This is first and foremost an EiRoku fic, Tropes, Why else would they be so secretive about it?, if you know what i mean, mention of BDSM, mostly canon compliant anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:08:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 22
Words: 43,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24211111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JCMorrigan/pseuds/JCMorrigan
Summary: Rokurou Rangetsu and Eizen love each other. So of course, they spend an awful lot of time trying to avoid doing anything about it.***Takes place alongside canon game events and a little bit afterward. An EiRoku story, but also sort of one about how the party grew closer together, the three gals found love with each other, and Rokurou adopted a little sister.
Relationships: Eizen/Rokurou Rangetsu, Eleanor Hume & Rokurou Rangestu, Playable Party brot6, Velvet Crowe/Eleanor Hume/Magilou
Comments: 6
Kudos: 32





	1. First

**Author's Note:**

> Really, I've been mentally writing this fic since they first met on my playthrough. Reaching the ending just gave me license to brush up the lore details and make this a reality.

Eizen didn’t believe in love at first sight. He never had. He still didn’t, not after everything.

Yes, there was Edna, but that was something different. Fated: familial. The mountain had gifted them both to the world, to each other, and they shared an understanding based on that link. It was organized by the Empyreans themselves.

But romantic love? No such thing. Because insofar as Eizen could feel love, it always came slowly.

To the point: he had barely even taken notice of Rokurou Rangetsu at first. Just seen him as an accessory to the daemon who was trying to bargain with the Reaper. Like the child malak, or the self-proclaimed witch who’d ended up on their vessel but didn’t seem to want to actually associate with them, or the lizard daemon with no tail and a metaphorically sharp tongue to match his literally sharp teeth.

Thinking back, he knew his earliest memory of Rokurou. It wasn’t special. The Van Eltia had run the smaller vessel aground, he’d stepped forth to battle the small misfit crew (the witch and the lizard had made themselves plenty scarce by this point), and there was a moment, just a moment, when Velvet and Laphicet (then, “Number Two,” but Eizen hated to think of him that way, even in memory) had backed off to either side while Rokurou struck at Eizen alone. Eizen may have been a little impressed, but no more than he was with the other two. It was only retroactively that he liked to visit that memory, to add onto it the sensations that hadn’t been there when he’d first experienced it. For example: the admiration of Rokurou’s speed, the adrenaline that guided him to dodge each well-placed slice of the twin daggers, the smell of the swordsman’s sweat, the billowing of his shaggy dark hair in the wind.

But at the time, he was just another enemy, and as soon as he’d been dodged and knocked aside, Velvet was back on the offensive to take his place, and it was she who had struck the final blow and also the deal.

Help him storm Vortigern, and live long enough to commit an act of revenge that Eizen hadn’t much cared about at the time. Back when he hadn’t realized the threads that tied them all together: the web of Innominat.

He explained the plan to them in the tunnels, after Magilou and Dyle had parted ways with them, leaving only Velvet, Laphicet, and Rokurou.

“One slip and we’re all as good as dead,” Rokurou commented.

“Then don’t slip,” Velvet scolded, “and we’re not dead.”

Rokurou sighed in dismay. “Walking with the Reaper, huh?”

Eizen brushed it off. Had he actually cared what this stranger had to say, he might’ve been hurt. But it was only the three thousandth time he’d heard such a thing. So he turned their attention to the plan.

Perhaps the first time he began to actually care for the welfare of these allies was when Laphicet had been cornered by a daemon and an unfair order. Eizen saw the creature looming before the child, and ran to destroy it. Rokurou and Velvet turned up not much later. Eizen noted how Velvet seemed to be the one in charge of taking care of the boy, but Rokurou was, at the time, far more sympathetic to his plight. Which was an admirable quality.

And it was shortly after that that Rokurou spoke up out of nowhere: “You said that exorcists bind a malakhim’s free will?”

Well, Eizen hadn’t expected a stranger – a daemon – a yaksha to take an interest in that. But he obliged. “Yeah,” he replied. “We’ve lived in this land a long time, and we’re our own folk, just like humans. Only a small portion of humans – those with strong resonance, like the exorcists – were able to perceive our existence.”

Rokurou nodded. “But the Advent changed that.”

Again, Eizen wasn’t sure why the interest, but at least someone cared. Empyreans knew there were far too many non-malakhim who didn’t. “Now malakhim can be seen by ordinary people. We’re being robbed of our free will and made into obedient tools. Humans praise Artorius for providing a miraculous new weapon against daemons, but malakhim aren’t mere objects.”

Velvet had broken in to disagree, but only to speak on behalf of Artorius with the intent to vilify him. Which Eizen couldn’t begrudge, but he still didn’t like the way she’d presented it. And Laphicet was still so quiet, so restrained.

He knew they all saw him as more than a tool. They saw him as an equal, even if that meant as equally untrustworthy as any of them. But perhaps he did have an inkling that things were different with Rokurou, who was eager to listen, who filled in the blanks, who agreed with him point-blank.

Still, that was the absolute minimum bar to clear. See Eizen as a person. Rokurou wasn’t special for doing that. He just proved how sad the situation was that so many didn’t.

He warmed up to Velvet watching her, of all things, threaten White Turtlez into a discount. Rokurou had managed to scare the Turtlez into submission with a perfectly friendly-looking smile, which was impressive. Laphicet had remained quiet. At least the three of them were tolerable now.

“You sure know how to drive a hard bargain, Velvet!” Rokurou laughed.

“What else was I supposed to do?” Velvet countered. “Would you rather I devoured him and swiped all his stuff?”

Rokurou went stone-faced. “You’re more frightening than the Reaper.”

Eizen wasn’t sure whether or not to be offended by that.

But Rokurou quickly made up for it, telling Laphicet the world was made up of all types with an enthusiasm that just didn’t seem to match Velvet’s dour anger and Laphicet’s monotone emptiness. “A daemon, a malak, and a Reaper,” Rokurou listed off. “We’ve got it all.”

“Ain’t that the truth?” Velvet sighed.

They had only progressed a few steps when Rokurou spoke up yet again: “What are Turtlez, anyway?”

And maybe that was the first time Eizen had really taken notice of him and how he stood out from the others: because he just wouldn’t shut up.

“Some sort of turtle men,” Eizen replied, because this was one of the very few subjects he didn’t know inside and out.

“Yeah, but what ARE they?” Rokurou reiterated.

Eizen gave a shrug that belied his frustration at not even knowing. “They are what they are. All you need to know is that they’re good at peddling things.”

“They’re probably just called ‘Turtlez’ because they wear all those sea turtle shells on their backs,” Rokurou mused. “After all, ‘Rokurou’ means ‘sixth son,’ and that’s what I am.”

Eizen had already known that, and was a little miffed that now Rokurou was explaining that to him before he’d had a chance to explain anything else. Did they think him an idiot?

Laphicet broke in to tell them the thing he was called that wasn’t “Laphicet,” and Eizen and Rokurou had both fussed over him, begging “someone” to give him a name. An understanding had passed between them, and Eizen knew that “someone” had to be Velvet, who was avoiding the subject for whatever reason.

As they neared the exit of the tunnels, Eizen took his vessel in hand, flipped it as usual. They say insanity is trying the same thing over and over again and expecting different results, and each time Eizen saw the grinning skull, he felt a little more insane.

He’d let out a moan of disappointment, forgetting that Velvet was hovering around to notice that it “Looks like Aifread’s first mate has a strange superstition.”

“It’s just a habit,” Eizen corrected. “Only comes up tails anyway.”

“What land did that coin come from?” Rokurou asked earnestly. “I’ve never seen a coin with a goddess on one side and the Reaper on the other.”

“Strictly speaking, that’s not the Reaper on the back,” Eizen explained. “It’s an image of the daemon king Dhaos.”

“Where have I heard that name before…?” Rokurou mused.

Well, this was a nice change of pace. Usually, Eizen’s corrections and explanations were seen as an annoyance to others. Which gave him all the more reason to keep giving them out of spite. When the world tried to make him feel self-conscious, he leaned into his flaws all the more, telling himself he accepted them. Still, where Benwick might lose the focus in his glazing eyes or Aifread would laugh and interrupt Eizen’s latest tirade – or Velvet, right now, was stealing furtive glances at the cave entrance, hinting they should stop jabbering and leave – Rokurou was asking questions, looking raptly at Eizen, eyes wide with curiosity.

A little more than the bare minimum. Just a little.

So Eizen explained a little more about the history of the coin, and Rokurou was actually impressed (“Wow. That’s a rather rare find, then.”).

“So, were you deciding anything with that coin toss?” Rokurou asked.

And Eizen gave him the knee-jerk truth: “Not anything I can talk about yet.”

He made to turn away, but was surprised to hear Rokurou’s reply: “Oh. I’m sorry for prying.”

Now, people didn’t do that. Not on the Van Eltia. And Eizen had hardly expected it from someone who he deduced to be from a swordsman’s lineage, trained in the ways of the blade and chained to volumes’ worth of protocol. The seemingly ornamental sword strapped to his back was a dead giveaway. From that detail alone, Eizen could infer so much about Rokurou, even if there was still so much he didn’t know, such as how a dedicated swordsman would end up a yaksha. Or why a dedicated swordsman would have such good manners and sound honest about it, not like he was reading off a printed code of honor.

Eizen was already several paces away when he realized he hadn’t said anything back, and that might have come across as rude, but what did Rokurou expect from the first mate of Van Aifread’s crew? If he was disappointed, that was his own fault.

They entered the vicinity of Vortigern on the plateau, discovered the hitch in the previous strategy, countered it with a workaround. They blamed Eizen and his curse. Like everyone did. Like Eizen himself did. But they would have to get used to it if they wanted his help. And maybe it would’ve helped Rokurou’s case if he didn’t go barging full-tilt into situations like an idiot. Then he might not have been so blindsided by the service-entry guards giving in to their malevolence.

But at least Eizen had to admit his new companions were tough. They survived the duel with the daemons, and took victory by a fair margin. There was hardly anything left of the losers when all was said and done, and what remained, Velvet’s hand consumed.

Inside Vortigern, Rokurou took one look at the hallways crawling with fiends and mused, “Hmm…looks like there are daemons inside as well. Don’t tell me, Eizen. You’re the source of daemonblight?”

“Nope,” Eizen answered without thinking. “It’s just our bad luck to be around when it spread.” He recalled Rokurou’s earlier words, and threw them right back at him: “This is what it means to walk with the Reaper. You’ve only yourselves to blame.”

“It works in our favor,” Velvet pointed out. “The enemy won’t be capable of an organized response.”

“And we’re a small group,” Rokurou added. “Our mobility will be an advantage in the chaos.”

Well, if the two of them were so glad to have the Reaper’s Curse on their side, then why did Rokurou keep mocking it? As if –

It clicked. Finally. It had been a joke. Rokurou was teasing Eizen, playing with him. That’s what he’d been doing from the start. He hadn’t actually been dismayed about the curse. The quip about being the source of daemonblight was his idea of a joke.

So he wasn’t supposed to have been offended after all. All that came out of him was a pensive-sounding growl.

They made a plan: head for the upper stratum. One guard thought to give them trouble, but Eizen disposed of him, telling him quite honestly how he felt about the idea of being used as a tool as the malakhim who’d been forced to carve this fortress had been, and the others seemed legitimately impressed by his conviction, which was surprising, as he didn’t think it was anything special. He was simply saying what was important to him. Shouldn’t everyone stick to their own creed?

So many little things that had gradually made Rokurou stand out, but Eizen could definitively place his interest – platonically speaking – in the man when he’d piped up, “You know, you’re pretty good with your fists, Eizen.”

So that was it. All the needling had been jests. The swordsman had, surprisingly, a respect toward Eizen that he decided all of a sudden he didn’t need to hide anymore.

So candor was met with candor; “Not as good as you are with your swords.” And it was true. Eizen considered himself a master at his craft, but there was no matching a man who had lived by the sword all his life. The more he studied Rokurou, the more clear it became that his upbringing had chained him to the blade. Rokurou was a work of art in motion, a deadly dancer.

(But even then, that was only notable as a point of interest.)

“I feel like I’ve seen a lot of your crew with swords,” Rokurou pointed out. “Do you really never use them yourself?”

So Eizen had to explain: “No. Not with the Reaper’s Curse, I don’t. It likes to rear its head at the worst times. I’ve broken blades just by unsheathing them, and once, just as I was about to deliver a finishing blow, my blade separated from the hilt and went flying. That sort of thing.”

He was used to pretending to wear the Curse as a quirk, a badge of pride even, to cover for all the shame it brought. Yet it would have seemed dishonest to leave all that out. Eizen had to be who he was.

“A sword isn’t something I can rely on when my life is at stake,” he continued to explain. “I fight using only my own body; that’s one less thing that can go wrong.”

Rokurou fired a playful smirk at him. “It’s too bad you’re not a swordsman. I bet we could’ve had a hell of a fight.”

“I wouldn’t need a sword to make it interesting,” Eizen replied, hardly even thinking about it. “What do you say? Wanna try your sword against my Curse?”

“Sure, if the right time comes.” Rokurou was beaming with smugness. “Just don’t whine when I end up winning.”

Eizen smiled right back. “You took the words right out of my mouth.”

No, looking back, Eizen knew exactly what that was. It was the moment he realized that Rokurou was someone he could become friends with.

On the second-topmost floor, Rokurou remarked, “Well, here’s where the real show starts. Do we have a plan, First Mate?”

He had gone about explaining, but of course it had turned into a tirade of contempt for the exorcists. Which he knew would go over well here; none of the others were too keen on the Abbey.

“We aim for the exorcists, then,” Rokurou said, still smiling. “The harder they are, the more fun it’ll be.”

“Ready to bust some heads?” Eizen asked.

“I’d rather cut them, actually,” Rokurou replied.

It was then that Eizen got the idea; “What do you say we make this interesting? An all-out duel between us would probably go badly, but if our targets are the exorcists and the daemons that infest this place, it won’t matter how much bad luck comes their way.”

“You saying we should see who can kill more?” Rokurou asked.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Eizen stated. “Whoever has the most kills by the time we board the Van Eltia again is the winner.”

“I’m game,” Rokurou told him. “We putting anything on this? Maybe…loser buys the winner drinks?”

“Deal.”

“If you’re done playing games,” Velvet reminded them, “we have actual business to take care of here.”

Which they all acknowledged was true, so they pressed onward. Though Velvet wasn’t as easy to warm up to as Rokurou, Eizen did admire her pragmatism, as well as her raw power. She was tough, sensible, a fighter. He appreciated that in an ally.

The competition began immediately. Rokurou severed a Wall Man’s body from its edifice, proclaiming, “That’s two!”

“Three,” Eizen said as he knocked a bat head over wings.

“Four!”

“Six!”

“That makes eight!”

“Boys…” Velvet grumbled.

“Not bad, for someone unarmed,” Eizen scoffed playfully after Rokurou’s tenth kill.

Rokurou rolled his eyes toward Eizen. “Unarmed? Hardly. These are deadly weapons.”

They were both on the same page now. “Heh,” Eizen sniffed. “What’ll it take to make you go all out?”

They split up to search for a key. Velvet and Laphicet in one room, Eizen and Rokurou in the other. At first, they were mostly occupied with turning the room inside-out, looking for the tiny key.

“Oops,” Rokurou said in a tone that lacked any regret whatsoever as an ornamental sculpture of a Normin hit the floor and broke.

“That was at least fifty years old,” Eizen diagnosed by looking at it, then scowling at Rokurou like he was a puppy who’d chewed up both his boots.

“Isn’t that weird?” Rokurou remarked. “Fifty years, and it gets broken in two seconds and can’t be put back together. Really makes you think, huh?”

“About your own mortality?”

“No, about how pointless making sculptures is if you’re only thinking about how long it’ll last,” Rokurou replied, dead serious. “I figure it’s one of those things you gotta do because you like it in the moment, ‘cause next time a yaksha comes snooping in your room, that thing’s goin’ bye-bye. So if you hated working on it, think of all the time you wasted.”

“That’s…surprisingly astute,” Eizen remarked. “I like the way you think.”

The sound of something else breaking made Eizen flinch. “I swear I’m not doing this on purpose,” Rokurou said hastily.

“It’s exorcist property.” Eizen smirked slightly. “Break as much as you want.”

Smash. “Ooooooops. I am SO clumsy today. Hey, Eizen. Break something. It’s kinda fun!”

“No,” Eizen told him. “Even knowing it belongs to the Abbey, I can’t bring myself to destroy historical artifacts or documents of this magnitude.”

“So just standing back and watching me do it is okay?”

“I’m steering my ship and you’re steering yours. I can tell you whether or not to do something, but you decide on your own if you’re going to follow the command. That’s what it means to live by your free will.”

What he hadn’t known, but should have been able to guess: all the years Rokurou hadn’t been living by his own free will. The time he considered lost to practice, protocol, and pursuit of the name “Shigure.” How he’d never been good enough, never measured up, kept trying to conform until the dam finally broke. And he’d struck out by doing something he knew he could never take back, something he knew they would never approve of if they found out. Well, now he was free, and though he hadn’t known what it was like to be a slave to an exorcist, Eizen’s words of free will and being no one’s tool stirred up new enthusiasm inside the swordsman’s heart.

Which he expressed by tearing several pages out of a leather-bound book on the shelf. “Wow. Butterfingers. Look what I just did.”

Take that, Shigure.

Velvet and Laphicet had arrived with the key and a compass, paying no mind to the debris from Rokurou’s mild rampage. The chase was yet again on. Though Laphicet had sustained some sort of bump on the head, to which Rokurou examined it, made a joke, tried to comfort Laphicet and make him smile.

More things Eizen didn’t know: the fact that his whole life, Rokurou had never had an older brother. Just five competitors who did their best to push him under the wheels. One in particular had succeeded. He’d thought, sometimes, he would turn out just like them. But around Laphicet, he couldn’t help but think of what he wished he’d had instead, what they’d never been, what he resented them for not being. And he wasn’t entirely sure if he was trying to cheer up Laphicet or his past self.

The competition continued as they made their way to the docks:

“Eleven!”

“Seventeen!”

“Nineteen!”

“Wha – that one didn’t count!”

Until the praetor stood in their path and proclaimed to know the Rangetsu sword style. Eizen and Rokurou didn’t argue more than three turns about who should take this one down. They both knew he wasn’t meant to be part of their competition. Rokurou had a personal score to settle here, and Eizen knew he should respect that, but at the same time, Rokurou had already once proven at the gate that he was ready to rush into any situation unprepared, such an absolute idiot, and it would have been such a shame to end the game because the yaksha had gone and died to a praetor.

But Rokurou had said “Get in my way and I’ll kill you too” with conviction.

So Eizen had to ask, “Are you mocking the Reaper?”, but confined his target to one of the praetor’s two malakhim.

He hadn’t seen this side of Rokurou thus far. Turned out the seemingly spacey, friendly, fun-loving swordsman had some mettle to him after all. Though Eizen had suspected as much from watching him fight. He would’ve wanted to know the conflict between Rokurou and the praetor, but once again, it was Rokurou’s business, and this time, he was sure Rokurou could handle himself – he’d managed to subdue the praetor with minimal help.

Whatever had happened, it was enough that when Eizen, Velvet, and Laphicet returned to him, he declared, “Yo, the Abbey’s my goal now, too!”

No one asked why. Only if he was the one responsible for driving the praetor’s shortsword through his chest.

“What, is there a problem?” was the swordsman’s response.

After some deliberation, Velvet decided, “No.”

This. Eizen liked this. Rokurou was good in conversation, but also at doing what was necessary to move forward practically. And, yes, so skilled with his blades that even letting him rush in like an idiot wasn’t the worst move. The Curse had barely touched him.

“A fine companion for the Reaper,” Eizen said without even thinking.

And they all had just let him.

That was when he posed his hypothesis: that Rokurou wasn’t just a swordsman, but a Rangetsu. As usual, Eizen was correct. This led to a discussion of a distantly-related clan of knifemakers about whom Eizen had wondered, as he supposed one of the expert blades could be a fine gift for Edna as she continued to experiment with cooking, but Rokurou informed him of the terrible curse on the knives (if there was one thing Eizen didn’t want to give Edna, it was more curses), and by now they were certainly friends.

The gate’s last guardian succumbed to his malevolence, becoming a daemon before their very eyes. They battled it to submission, after which Rokurou proclaimed, “Welp, that’s twenty.”

“I dealt the last blow,” Eizen told him. “It’s my kill, and my twentieth.”

“Um, no. That’s not what happened. I was the one who – “

“We don’t have TIME!” Velvet growled, and they hurried to the edge of the rooftop, waiting on the precipice.

Eizen had known it would come to this fated leap, but Rokurou seemed quite unsure. Scared, even. “Will this really work?” he asked apprehensively.

Eizen couldn’t keep from smiling mischievously. He rather liked seeing Rokurou squirm. “Do you want the Reaper’s reassurance?”

Rokurou’s visible flinch was definitely the punchline he had wanted.

Rokurou also took it upon himself to jump first, to prove how not-afraid he was, and Eizen followed immediately after. They caught the rigging, ziplining down onto the Van Eltia’s deck as Magilou jumped for joy.

“See?” Eizen stated. “Nothing to be afraid of.”

Rokurou bristled. “Yeah, well, I wasn’t afraid.”

“I seem to remember otherwise.”

Rokurou approached him, landing a light, teasing punch on Eizen’s upper arm. Oh, this wouldn’t do. He couldn’t really tell him about malevolence, not now, probably not ever, and this was the kind of man who probably thrived off small physical contact moments with his friends. But this one wasn’t a problem. There were two layers of sleeve between Rokurou’s fist and Eizen’s arm, and besides, Eizen’s pride from the conquest was welling so high and his malevolence so tamped down that Rokurou most certainly could’ve made skin-to-skin contact and not done any harm whatsoever. Eizen would just have to be more careful about dodging touch from then onward.

“I was just acting scared so YOU wouldn’t feel bad about freaking out,” Rokurou laughed.

“Oh, really?”

The landing of Velvet and Laphicet behind them interrupted their dialogue. “Bad news, boys,” she grunted. “The Guardian wasn’t dead. You’re still nineteen to nineteen.”

Both groaned.

Even then, Eizen still saw Rokurou as slightly more than a person of interest. A friend, but one he wasn’t quite sure he could rely on. Definitely not a prospective lover. Love at first sight was a fallacy.

But the one thing he never asked was if Rokurou had felt the same way about him the whole time, or if he’d fallen faster. He didn’t much want to ask. After all, he hated being proven wrong.


	2. Bed

Bloodwing Butterflies Bar.

That was the name of the establishment that served as the gateway to their common goals. To Artorius, to Shigure, to Aifread. (To Bienfu, but Magilou had gone conveniently missing at that point.) A front for Loegres’ organized crime circuit, though one that hadn’t skimped on the façade; the mabo curry was to die for.

Proprietor Tabatha Baskerville agreed to let them all stay for the night, get a good night’s rest before their quests continued the next morning. Velvet was exhausted, hurrying up the stairs – Eizen had the feeling she liked hiding in sleep whenever she was unable to actively pursue Artorius – and the newly-named Laphicet trotted loyally after.

Eizen stayed downstairs a moment, asking with hope against hope if Tabatha knew anything about Aifread’s disappearance. No such luck, but now he had the Bloodwings on his side (insofar as the Bloodwings could be on anyone’s side) to aid in the search.

He hadn’t even realized until he turned away that Rokurou hadn’t gone upstairs yet and was pouring himself a brimming cup of sake.

Eizen had planned on a nightcap himself, and it was only logical to want to drink beside a friend. He placed his own liquor bottle down on the table to get Rokurou’s attention, then took a seat. Rokurou said nothing at first, simply accepting Eizen’s presence.

After both were well into their drinks, Rokurou remarked, “Sounds like you’ve got problems of your own. Do you really have time to take on ours as well?”

“I could ask you why you’ve tied yourself up with Velvet,” Eizen replied.

“Me?” Rokurou smiled softly. “I’ve got a debt to repay. Without her, there’s no way I’d’ve ever found my blade again.”

Eizen said it without thinking; “A daemon repaying a debt? Ridiculous.”

Rokurou temporarily averted his gaze. “As ridiculous as a pirate malak, you think?”

Now Eizen didn’t know if they were on the same page anymore. If it was a joke or if he’d offended the yaksha. But Rokurou flashed him a smile to assure him it was the former, and Eizen gave a smile and a nod of his own.

He rather liked having a new friend. It made him smile a little more. He’d had Aifread and Benwick for that, but now one of them was conspicuously absent, and it was good to have someone new to fill the void – though, make no mistake, Rokurou was a completely different sort of person from Van Aifread.

“No matter how you look at it,” Rokurou went on, “there’s nothing reasonable about our rogue existence.” He took another sip.

Eizen had left his glass untouched a while, facing away from Rokurou. Thinking on the void left in his heart by Aifread’s vanishing had reminded him of the unpleasantness he was facing, the emptiness he was trying to pretend wasn’t there. The Reaper, hunched over at the table of a bar, wallowing in his own depression. Pathetic. What must Rokurou think of him for that?

“And in this brave new world governed by reason,” the swordsman went on, “a rogue can either rage and become a monster like me, or…”

“Or band together with others.” Eizen turned to face him again. “Like a shipful of pirates, perhaps.”

An open invitation. If Rokurou hadn’t seen the two of them as friends, Eizen wanted him to make that decision now. To officially canonize their bond.

Hope surged when Rokurou immediately said “Exactly.” But then he followed it up with “I admire Velvet’s courage – “ and Eizen realized Rokurou must’ve been talking about his friendship with her all along. Fool of him to rush into something so fast. Why even, when he was Cursed? It wasn’t like a friendship with him would benefit Rokurou.

“ – and I’m curious where it comes from,” Rokurou finished. Oh, Eizen had best say something.

“So you’re doing it for yourself after all?”

“Is that so wrong?” Rokurou asked, taking another delicate sip.

Eizen sighed, turning away yet again. “No. I’m the same.” He might as well lay it all out on the table. “I need allies on my side with the strength and courage to combat this so-called ‘order’ imposed by the Abbey.” A sigh. “But anyone who’s willing to put up with the ‘creed’ folly of Aifread’s pirates has to be an even bigger fool than we are.”

This was about Velvet, after all. That was the point. And the more he ruminated on it, the more she intrigued him. Maybe not a friend yet. But someone he truly did admire. He took a long drink, and stated, quite honestly, “So I’m like you. I wanna know how deep her foolishness goes.”

Rokurou’s smile practically shone in the dim lighting. “She’d kill you if she heard that, you know.” Refilling his cup until the jug dripped. Probably half empty. Had he really imbibed that much and kept his wits? Now, that was impressive.

“It’s a compliment,” Eizen insisted. “Fools that big aren’t born every day.”

“Aha,” Rokurou mused, catching onto something. “And I imagine your dear Captain Aifread’s much the same.”

What an odd mixture of regret and contentment Eizen was brought by thinking on Aifread’s many misadventures, and how he was very much like Velvet, really. He smiled, though sadly. “Aye. That man flies his fool flag proudly.”

Eizen hadn’t even realized he’d grabbed for the sake jug instead of his glass bottle to refill his cup. Rokurou didn’t seem to mind. The taste of the two liquors blended was something unique, splendid.

“And you?” Eizen asked. “Are you a fool, too, or just tagging along with one?”

“Depends on who you ask.” Rokurou shrugged. “But I’m in this for the long haul.”

“Of course. You’re devoted to Velvet.”

“Whoa, don’t make it sound like I’m trying to chase her or anything.” Rokurou flinched. “It’s not like that.”

“I didn’t think it was,” Eizen stated. “Just that you two have a close companionship, no matter what form that takes.”

“Wait. Are you jealous?” Rokurou’s smile was a mile wide. “You’re jealous, aren’t you?”

“Of what?”

“You think if I’m friends with her, I don’t have room to be your pal. Right?”

“It’s not like it matters.” Eizen took another sip of sake tinted with his own vintage. “The only thing I bring to friendship is pain and suffering.”

“I see I got my invite to the pity party,” Rokurou remarked.

“It’s not self-pity,” Eizen grunted, bristling. “I’m stating a fact. I know who I am, and I’m proud of who I am. But you’ll come off the worse for it if you stick around.”

“That’s a challenge, isn’t it?” Rokurou grinned. “Well, I accept.”

“You don’t know what you’re getting into.”

“I know I’m sitting across from a really jealous Reaper who almost managed to best me at a kill count and has good taste in alcohol, and that’s enough for me. Look, Eizen, don’t sweat it. You’re a fine companion for the yaksha, too. If nothing else, I’ll never have to wonder where another old coin came from so long as we’re running together.”

Eizen wasn’t sure if the warmth within him came from those words or the drink. “Well, if you’re that set on walking with the Reaper, I can’t stop you. I can warn you all I like, but it’s you who makes the decision.”

“Decision made. If you don’t mind being all buddy-buddy with a daemon.”

Eizen gave him a content nod. “We should get some sleep. Wouldn’t want either of us stumbling around half-drunk and half-exhausted when we have so much work to do tomorrow.”

“Yeah. Good point.”

They ascended the stairs together, picking out the numbered doors on the bar’s upper level until they came to the room they had been assigned. Eizen eased the creaky old door open, and they stepped inside.

Velvet and Laphicet shared a bed, the elder practically wrapped around the younger as a bastion of protection. There was something about the two of them that reminded Eizen of himself and Edna. Maybe they were fated to be family as well. Both were sound asleep, and though Velvet’s face was scowling, betraying her as the victim of troubled dreams, Laphicet’s own slumber was tranquil. He must’ve known, even in sleep, that he had a guardian daemon to look out for him.

Eizen trembled momentarily, thinking of how the proximity must be affecting Laphicet’s malevolence levels, but he forced himself to calm down. Laphicet was young. He couldn’t possibly absorb that much yet, not even from sleeping beside a therion. (And wasn’t Velvet the kind that ate malevolence, anyway? It probably all cancelled out.) No, the ones who had to worry were the older malakhim like Eizen.

For example, if he had to share a bed with a daemon –

At first, he thought his own worries had conjured the sight up as an illusion. He shook his head. No, it was no panic-induced vision, nor a drunken hallucination. The room contained one other bed. And only one.

“Are you kidding me?” Eizen hissed under his breath.

“Great,” Rokurou sighed. “Perfect. This is gonna be a long night.”

“For the record,” Eizen stated, “it’s nothing to do with you, or with the idea of sharing a sleeping space with a man. I like my space. That’s all.”

What he really liked was being able to sleep without worrying that he’d pick up a whole boatload of malevolence from a daemon beside him.

“Oh, that’s not my problem either,” Rokurou added. “I’m just one of those guys that takes up the whole bed. How am I supposed to stretch my limbs if I have to be careful not to smack you in the face?”

“One of us could sleep on the floor.”

“Not happening. You?”

“I’d rather not.” The floor was hard, old, and a little splintery. He’d take the malevolence. “Let’s just try and make the best of it.”

“I mean, there’s more pillows than we need,” Rokurou pointed out. “We could put one up like a barrier. Wouldn’t solve my problem, but it’d give you a buffer from being smacked by a stray arm.”

“Which I definitely don’t want,” Eizen affirmed. “All right. That has to be how we handle this.”

They arranged themselves on the bed, each taking up exactly half. After settling the pillow between them, they turned back-to-back, each trying to ignore the presence of the other.

Though as Eizen tallied it up, he realized the pillow might not be necessary. First of all, a malak couldn’t dragonize in a single night. That would take repeated exposure, or one incredibly saturated incident. Second, his ability to take on extra malevolence was affected by his mood, which was almost the way it worked in humans and daemons. It might become damaging to his health if he made contact with Rokurou during the night after being stressed out or melancholy. But despite all the wistful thoughts of Aifread, Eizen’s chat with Rokurou and affirmation that they were, in fact, friends left him with a sense of peace. Hardly a malevolent wisp. He’d just been too paranoid.

“Night,” Rokurou muttered from so close to him.

“You too,” Eizen muttered back.

Somehow, eventually, they both got to sleep.

* * *

Eizen was an early riser. The moment the dawn cracked through his window, he found his consciousness returned to reality. The next logical move was to pry open his eyes.

The sight that greeted him caught him completely off guard. At some point during his sleep, he’d rolled over, and was now facing Rokurou. But Rokurou had done the same, and was facing him as well, though still fast asleep and softly snoring.

Eizen gave a short, quiet gasp. The way Rokurou was lying down, his hair had fallen just so to reveal the yaksha side of his face. It was the first time Eizen had really gotten a view of it. The skin was jet-black, almost rotten-looking. The faintest hints of red cut through.

It was strangely beautiful. Eizen felt like he was seeing something forbidden: a treasure salvaged from a faraway isle. The eye underneath the closed lid must have been red as well, he figured, and he had somewhat of a need to see it open.

But that wasn’t the only thing that had given him pause. Rokurou looked different, asleep. Like he hadn’t a care in the world. As though nothing troubled him: no debts, no twisted history, no malevolence. Perfectly at peace.

Eizen fumbled for the word to describe exactly what he was looking at. Then it hit him: “adorable.” Or “cute,” if you were plebeian enough. It was almost the same sensation as he used to get chasing squirrels as a child.

Though with one key difference: squirrels had never kept him captivated staring that long, wishing for some inexplicable reason that he could reach over and touch a being he knew he shouldn’t for the good of his health.

That was when he first started to suspect that his feelings toward Rokurou were evolving. Surely friends didn’t get this hung up over friends’ sleeping faces. But neither was it a death sentence. The man was handsome. Eizen had known handsome men before. It didn’t mean this would go anywhere, or that he would feel anything more than a little admiration. No, he was just struck by a fleeting moment that was sure to dissipate.

Which was why he made it last, staying perfectly still and watching Rokurou gently breathe, taking in as much of the sight as he could before the yaksha eventually woke up.

It didn’t come about through the light of the sun or the singing of the birds. Rather, Velvet had yawned herself awake, shaken Laphicet into consciousness, then pounded both feet on the floorboards, yelling, “WAKE UP!”

Rokurou was jerked into consciousness instantly, and Eizen had to pretend he’d only just been roused. “Whoa, I’m up, I’m up!” Rokurou protested, laboriously sitting up in bed. “Was that REALLY necessary? Couldn’t have, I dunno, come up here with a plate of natto rice and umeboshi on the side and let the smell wake me up?”

“I’m not your mother,” Velvet growled as she went about finding her day clothing.

“Yeah, and I’m sure grateful for that,” Rokurou muttered.

(It meant the exact opposite of what everyone thought. To make a long and sordid story short, Velvet being different from the previous Shigure was a breath of incredibly fresh air.)

Eizen sat up as well; “We can get breakfast downstairs.” He turned to look at Rokurou and was pleased to find the spell sufficiently broken. He was looking at a friend, not…whatever he’d seen when the man was asleep.

“Huh?” Rokurou turned toward him, and now Eizen could see the blazing crimson of his uncovered eye. Realizing it, Rokurou grinned. “Hey, Eizen. Betcha didn’t expect it to look this gross, did ya?” He grinned mischievously.

“It…isn’t,” Eizen told him.

“Seriously?” Rokurou deflated. “C’mon, that’s the best part of being a yaksha! Freaking people out with the daemon face! Geez, first Velvet doesn’t care, then the kid doesn’t care, now you don’t care – does anyone get grossed out by daemon faces anymore?”

“Take a walk in the main square with your hair pinned back and you’ll get your answer,” Velvet grunted, unfolding a changing screen from the closet.

Still, Rokurou liked that Eizen had approved of his hidden side. He stored the small compliment away, deep in his heart, where it could help fuel his fire.

They dressed, headed downstairs for a hearty breakfast, and discussed their plan of attack.


	3. Catacombs

Of course, Rokurou’s side of the story was different.

Eizen was impressive in most respects. Tall. Handsome. Well-built. Informed on any and every subject Rokurou could think of. Willing to banter with him. A great warrior. Probably able to drink him under the table. And bearing a creed that Rokurou knew would change his life by simple proximity to it.

But of course, it couldn’t be that easy, because by the time Rokurou had figured out this was most definitely a crush, he realized he had no idea what to do about that.

Ask him to be his partner? He was still burned from the last three times he’d gunned for romance. Romance wasn’t something he was good at. Not when his idea of love was talking about swords for three hours and hoping the other person wouldn’t get bored. Now, Eizen had the greatest chance of anyone Rokurou had ever dated of actually being able to tolerate and even contribute to the sword monologue. But it still wasn’t a hundred-percent confirmation.

Also, he might not like men that way, which probably should have been Rokurou’s first concern. There was another “romance” under his belt he didn’t even count because the moment he’d asked, the boy he’d been interested in had called him a derogatory name and punched him in the face.

Well, the joke was on him, because you don’t punch a Rangetsu in the face and come away un-stabbed!

But that was the other thing. Rokurou was a Rangetsu, meaning he had been raised to care about status and prowess and pretty much nothing else. Even having someone like Velvet in his life was new for him. Even when she was callous to him, she at least expressed emotion and passion, and didn’t have expectations of him. He may have fudged a little how important the concept of repaying debt was to him post-breakaway from the clan. Oh, he still liked to have a code of honor, but it was mostly self-serving. And having someone around who actually wanted to pay him attention and get into fights at his side rather than challenge him for a promotion was something he wanted to serve himself.

And now he had three of them!

But the problem was that Rokurou didn’t know where to even start confessing, which may have been a reason all his past relationships had instantly deflated: because he’d just gotten off on the wrong foot. It wasn’t shyness that held him back, but rather a lack of tact, of knowledge. Most would have called him afraid, but that wasn’t it, not really. It had to feel right if he was going to do it, and it just didn’t.

So he didn’t say anything, even when he and Eizen had to share a bed. Furthermore, while the prospect was exciting, he hadn’t been lying about sleeping like a starfish. He was amazed that he hadn’t kicked Eizen straight off the mattress by the time Velvet yelled them both awake.

But if Eizen were interested in him, then surely the Reaper would’ve said something when they’d shared their drink, right? And he hadn’t. So moot point. It was a crush best crushed.

Easier said than done, of course.

* * *

The final mission: assassinate a priest.

Cool. Rokurou had no qualms with that. They were already out to kill half the Abbey anyway. Why stop at half? The only downside was that Gideon probably wouldn’t be able to put up a good fight. It would be no fun at all.

Magilou tagged along for whatever reason. No, as they entered the Barona Catacombs to sneak their way toward the Villa, Magilou proved her purpose was to make Laphicet nervous, so Eizen and Rokurou gave her lip right back. (They did work pretty well as a team. Too bad it couldn’t go anywhere, Rokurou thought.)

“I’LL GET YOU FOR THIS, WITCH-KILLERS!” Magilou shrieked, chasing them down the entry tunnel, and no, Rokurou did not think they’d gone too far.

There was a problem, though. Several of the tunnels were flooded. The first water blockage they came across, they had to evaluate.

“How’s your swimming?” Velvet asked the group.

“I float daintily like a little lily pad on the water!” Magilou bragged.

“I don’t know,” Laphicet admitted.

“I’m pretty good at it, if I do say so myself,” Rokurou added.

Eizen gave a “Hmph” before admitting, “I’m the opposite. As an earth malak, I’m diametrically opposed to water. Any attempt I’ve made to swim has nearly ended in tragedy. However, I do intend to one day conquer that obstacle.”

No one expected him to finish by saying “And it looks like today is that day” and swan-dive into the pool.

“EIZEEEEEEN!” Velvet raged, though not quite able to hide the fear in her voice.

“He’ll be fine!” Rokurou reassured.

The sudden turbulence of the water and splashing of an arm above the surface briefly before the silhouette of the Reaper sank like a stone indicated otherwise.

“Oooookay,” Rokurou corrected. “He’s not fine. Hang on. I got this.”

He dove in after Eizen, and he hadn’t been boasting; he could swim like a fish. The catacomb waters were murky, and he tried not to think too hard about what exactly was making them so cloudy besides the general dark of the enclosed space, but his daemon eye sought out the falling shape in the water.

Got you.

Rokurou surged, locked arms around the figure’s waist, kicked to propel them both straight up. They surfaced together, Eizen gasping like he’d been deprived of air for any longer than thirty seconds.

“Eizen, what the hell?” Rokurou asked. “You knew that was gonna happen.”

“One of these days, it won’t!” Eizen seethed through gritted teeth…and then realized all at once where he was and what exactly was keeping him afloat. This, for some reason seemed to make him incredibly nervous. “Rokurou. Let go of me. NOW.”

(Malevolence. He wasn’t in the best emotional state after that failure, and the yaksha’s arms were riding on the gap where his shirt and trousers separated, making the faintest skin-to-skin contact - )

“No.” Rokurou pivoted to steer them back to shore, one arm locked around Eizen while the other paddled. “Because you’re going to sink again. And then I’m going to have to rescue you again. And I think we only want to do this once.”

Well, Rokurou didn’t necessarily mind, but he was trying to get rid of his crush, not exacerbate it! Besides, Eizen was just enough larger than him that trying to swim him back to terra firma was awkward in the physical sense as well and probably not going as fast as it could have been if it were Laphicet he were dragging out of the water.

So Eizen pouted and let Rokurou bring him back, but at the exact moment they planted their boots on solid stone, dripping wet, the water began to recede behind them, leaving the path dry.

“Hey, look!” Rokurou remarked. “The water level dropped!”

Eizen winced.

“You don’t think there are alligators down there, do you?” Laphicet asked nervously.

“Turns out there was a huge, obvious lever ‘round the corner that just shuts the whole thing off!” Magilou chirped. “Pretty nifty, huh? This way, we won’t have to worry about Eizen getting eaten by alligators!”

“There are NO ALLIGATORS!” Eizen insisted. He clenched a fist and stared down at it; “One day…one day, I will conquer the waters permanently!”

“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that,” Rokurou muttered.

To that, Eizen turned to glare at him, and Rokurou was convinced that the malak was going to tell him off. Yet he just stared. Silently.

“What?” Rokurou asked.

“…Thank you.” Eizen averted his gaze.

“Anytime.” Rokurou then realized what he’d said. “Whoa. Wait. No. That was NOT an invitation for you to jump back in.”

Was it just him, or did Eizen look flustered? Well, he supposed anyone would after almost drowning and having to be reeled to safety.

“There will be more lever mechanisms placed around the catacombs,” Eizen muttered. “I suggest we find them to prevent any more incidents.”

“You say that like you’re not the sole reason there was an incident in the first place,” Velvet growled.

To that, Eizen simply turned and stalked away, coattails billowing. “Let’s go.”

Rokurou realized he could still sort of feel the imprint on his arms of what it had been like to hold the Reaper close. Shame it hadn’t been for longer, or during a time when he could actually drink in the moment. Eizen was very solid; if you held him up, you wouldn’t be surprised that he had sunk like a stone.

Oh, well. Nothing would come of it, and nothing should. Rokurou shrugged it off and walked on.

Though, of course, that wasn’t actually the last incident. Just the last one that involved water.

The next Bloodwing posted on the pathway to the Villa had offered a warning while looking Velvet up and down; “You’ll be going through some tight tunnels to get to the Villa. With a figure like that, you’ll probably get stuck.”

Velvet rolled her eyes at the Bloodwing agent’s words. Of course. Comments like that were a dime a dozen. Besides, this man was hardly slim, himself. He had no right to talk. Instead of dignifying it with a response, she simply moved on. As did everyone else.

“Underworld agents just have no decorum these days,” Magilou sighed, rolling her eyes. “Or taste. What about my figure? Is it not aesthetically perfect?”

That wasn’t dignified with a response, either.

After some wandering, they came across what the Bloodwing agent had been referring to: a small square aperture in the wall, leading to the chamber beyond. It hardly qualified as a “tunnel.” More like a very small door.

“Magilou,” she asked. “How close are we to the villa?”

“Hmmm…” Magilou thought it over. “If I’ve kept track of our journey correctly so far, we’re either right beneath it…or still about a hundred miles away.”

Velvet let out a sharp sigh. “Never mind. Anyway, if we are under the villa, that’s our last leg.”

“I seriously have to get down on that dirty floor and crawl?” Magilou cried. “Oh, woe is me!”

“You were the one who wanted to come along,” Velvet reminded her sharply.

“Nobody said it was going to be as easy as walking in the servants’ entrance,” Eizen reminded her. “If you’re too proud to crawl, then by all means, you’re free to not bother us again.”

“I can’t belieeeeeeve it’s come to this!” Magilou moaned.

“I’ll go first, if that makes it any better,” Laphicet said tentatively. He dropped to hands and knees, easily slipping through the tiny gate.

Velvet nudged Magilou roughly; “Go.”

“All right!” Magilou declared. “For my next trick, I will contort through the eye of a needle!” She lowered herself to the catacomb floor, groaning, “There’s sooooo much dirt down here!”

“I’m not waiting on you,” Velvet urged.

Magilou slithered through the opening, her jingling boots disappearing from view. Then Velvet went down into a crawl of her own, on hands and knees. Certainly, a little wriggle was needed, but she found herself on the other side of the wall soon enough.

Laphicet and Magilou had already gathered around a ladder leading a long way up. Velvet took her place between them, glancing toward the ceiling. “So that’s our way in.”

“Eeeeeyup,” Magilou confirmed. “Like I said! Right under the villa!”

“Or are we a hundred miles away?” Laphicet worried.

“We are not a hundred miles away,” Velvet assured him firmly. “I’ll take the lead again. Let’s go.”

As she seized the ladder and began to scale it, a call from behind got her attention: “H-hey! Could you maybe wait a minute?”

“What now?” Velvet slid down the ladder, turning back to look at the wall – and immediately planting her forehead into her hand, shaking her head.

She, Magilou, and Laphicet had all managed to fit through the small gate just fine. It was Rokurou who was now tightly wedged into it, only having managed to get his uppermost body through to find himself trapped at the abdomen. He twisted and grunted, bracing his hands on the floor to try and push himself forward. “Just – just hang on – “ he muttered. “Almost – there – “

But it was clear he was nowhere near that. After watching him struggle a bit more, Velvet commanded him, “Stop. You’re getting nowhere.”

Rokurou let out a sigh, halting his motion. “Damn. Well, this is an unexpected hold-up. I thought that guy was just bein’ a jerk, not actually giving us a useful warning.”

Another voice sounded, muffled by the wall. Velvet approached more closely, pressing her ear to the stone as her feet planted down by the helpless Rokurou; “What was that?”

“I said,” Eizen repeated, “am I hearing correctly that Rokurou is stuck there?”

“Yes,” Velvet groaned. “Unfortunately.”

There was a silence. Then the unmistakable sound of Eizen trying to suppress his laughter and horribly failing.

“Hey,” Rokurou observed. “I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you actually laugh. That might actually make this worth it.”

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t take offense,” Eizen choked through his laughter. “Of course, if you can’t fit through, I definitely can’t.”

“Hmm,” Magilou mused. “If only I had my traitorous sidekick with me! Then I could bust down the entire wall!”

“Hmph,” Velvet remarked. “I could bust down the entire wall right now. Seems to be the best option.”

“Whoa, whoa!” Rokurou protested. “I’m all for busting the wall down, but only if I’m not in the wall at the time!”

Velvet sighed, shaking her head. “Then let’s just get this over with.” She knelt before Rokurou. “Put out your arms.”

Which the swordsman did; Velvet latched onto them with her own, giving a pull. That seemed to do absolutely nothing. “Magilou, get over here and help me!” she grunted.

“It seems once again, I’m needed to save the day.” Magilou patted Laphicet’s head; “Watch a professional at work.” She strode up next to Velvet; “I mean, if I’ve already gotten these stockings dirty with whatever this filth is…” She knelt down.

“You take one arm,” Velvet directed, “and I’ll take the other.”

“This is starting to get embarrassing,” Rokurou sighed as the two women took their positions.

“Maybe you should have thought of that before blindly crawling in there,” Velvet growled. “All right, Magilou. Pull.”

As it turned out, their forces combined weren’t able to do the job, so Velvet called in for reinforcements, tapping on the wall. “Eizen.”

Eizen was having a minor crisis. He’d been spending his time on the other side of the wall making a point of looking everywhere but at Rokurou’s struggling back half. Well, except maybe a glance, but it had seemed less than prudent and he’d immediately corrected it. “What?” he responded to Velvet.

“We need help from your end,” Velvet stated.

“Wait a minute!” Rokurou cried. “You’re not asking – “

“I want him to push from behind,” Velvet clarified. “Neither of you has a problem with that, right? You’re both adults.”

“Uhhh…no.” Rokurou was glad he’d already been blushing from embarrassment; now no one could tell the difference between that and this. “No, it’s fine.”

“No problem here,” Eizen lied rather smoothly. He felt almost a relief when he let his eyes drift down to his target. The swordsman really did have a very aesthetically pleasing body, which was something he’d noticed before, but now – well, now, he had to get his admiration under control for the moment.

“Good.” Velvet paced back to kneel before Rokurou. “Let’s try this again.”

Eizen could tell when the others had started to pull once more; Rokurou’s boots slid on the stone, seeking leverage. Swallowing a lump, he knelt down behind the swordsman, unable to keep all the thoughts about just how good this proximity looked from floating into his consciousness. No, no time for that now. His friend (who was only a friend and nothing more) needed his help.

So he lay hands on Rokurou’s backside and gave a push forward.

It took a bit of doing, but soon enough, Rokurou had collapsed on the other side of the wall. “Well,” he said as he got to his feet, dusting off his clothing, “could’ve done without that.”

“Now, about that wall…” Velvet turned to the offending edifice.

With one blow, she brought it down in a hail of jagged debris and dust.

“Yeah, glad she waited until I was out of there to do that,” Rokurou confirmed.

Eizen strode through. “Everyone all right on this end?” he asked.

“No,” Magilou grunted. “I broke a sweat doing that. Combined with the filth from crawling, I must look disgusting!”

“How is that any different from usual?” Velvet asked.

“HEY!”

“And you?” Eizen strode right up to Rokurou, looking him dead in the eye.

“Uh…yeah, fine,” Rokurou said rather nervously. “Just…let’s leave this part out when we tell Baskerville about this, okay?”

“Fair.” Without even thinking, Eizen reached up to lightly brush back Rokurou’s bangs, running his hand over the dark daemon skin.

If he’d already taken on any malevolence from the near-drowning experience, well, that much more wasn’t going to hurt.

And Rokurou was very, very tempted to tell him that this experience had revealed how strong and shapely Eizen’s hands were, but he kept his mouth shut.

“If there are no more diversions…” Velvet turned her attention to the ladder. “Let’s go.”

She ascended, followed by Magilou and Laphicet. That left the two men behind, and Eizen was quick to assert that “I’m following; you take the rear.”

Because he’d already looked his fill plenty and still felt like he’d done something quite wrong.

Though Rokurou couldn’t help but steal a glance as Eizen climbed. His coattails largely worked to obscure his figure, but still, it was clear his backside wasn’t bad to look at one bit.

“Wonder how mine looked to him,” Rokurou pondered before once again shrugging it away to focus on the mission at hand.


	4. Stormhowl

Eizen was afraid.

Afraid of how badly he knew Rokurou could lose himself to bloodlust. He’d seen him nearly attack Laphicet out in the Brigid Ravine. Laphicet, who he usually protected and comforted and joked with like he was the yaksha’s own son. Eizen didn’t think himself in danger, nor did he think it was just cause for any of them to stop traveling with Rokurou (except maybe for the exorcist they’d picked up and already knew they couldn’t trust). But it was concerning for other reasons. Such as what Rokurou might do that he would regret once he snapped out of it.

Afraid of what Rokurou was stewing on, alone in the forge with Kurogane as Eizen and the others waited in a natural antechamber of the mines. The last thing he’d mentioned was pure bitterness toward his elder brother. The usual joyful, jocose Rokurou was gone, at least for the moment, and the Rokurou traveling with them now was diving into the depths of his own heart, dealing with his darkness. How far down could he go and still be retrieved back?

But most of all, afraid of Shigure Rangetsu. Eizen was confident he could find a way to outsmart the man. Not beat: outsmart. And he could pull Velvet, Magilou, Laphicet, and Eleanor – yes, even Eleanor – along with him. But Rokurou would insist on fighting Shigure, on taking the path of most resistance, to finally earn his title and sense of honor. What Eizen had seen in the ravine was only the tip of his obsession. Rokurou was willing to throw his own life away for a chance to duel Shigure, and judging by the legate’s skill in the battle they’d just left behind, that was exactly what he would be doing.

Which was why Eizen needed to stop him. They couldn’t afford to lose him yet. Not now. He was an asset to the party: some well-needed muscle, good with a blade. Not to mention Eizen’s friend. Someone worth protecting even if he weren’t useful.

Not to mention Eizen still wasn’t sure how he really felt about Rokurou. They’d been traveling together a while, and only grown closer, sharing drinks at inns and starting up new kill counts. Though their fighting styles seemed polar opposites, they made a surprisingly good duo in battle. But Eizen had shared this adventure with the other three (no, four; Eleanor was part of them now) as well. And discovered that beneath her hard exterior, Velvet had some soft spots. And that Laphicet was growing to like having free will, as it gave him reign to be happy about whatever made him excited. And Magilou might have been a pain, but she was an insightful pain, and sometimes could place just the right punchline to make everyone smile. Eleanor…well, hopefully she’d come around before she had to be dealt with in a different way. And Bienfu just didn’t count.

Rokurou, however, was the one he wanted to spend the most time with. To talk to about his wide variety of knowledge, because the swordsman was hungry to listen. To offer an ear in return when Rokurou wanted to talk blades, because he knew some things that even Eizen didn’t after a thousand years. To make inappropriate jokes about his Curse. To remind him that he was doing great out there.

He still remembered how Rokurou had looked in the bed at the Bloodwing Butterflies Bar. So peaceful. So perfect. Sometimes, he imagined that face lazily opening its eyes, beckoning him in with a smile. Letting him get closer. Closer than he should.

It definitely wasn’t an ordinary friendship. But Eizen bristled at the idea that it might be romantic. Even just casually sexual would be bad enough, but preferable to committed and romantic. Because a friend could still escape the Reaper’s Curse. But a lover? Well, Eizen might learn that you could actually kill someone by kissing them the wrong way. Such was his luck. Stay single, a lone wolf, and you couldn’t hurt anyone you cared about in that way. He’d already resigned himself to never go back home to Edna, and he wasn’t much in the mood to drop Velvet’s entourage simply because he had to protect Rokurou from himself.

But right now, he had to think about protecting Rokurou from Shigure instead, and that was something he could put more thought into, strategize about. That didn’t involve any messy navigation of feelings.

A sylphjay found its way into the mine tunnels, and Velvet took notice. She approached as Eizen scanned the message that had been attached to the bird. “The ship is on its way,” he declared. “Right on schedule.”

“Of course it is,” Velvet told him. “They don’t have the Reaper on board.”

Now, was that her attempt at a joke? “One more thing,” Eizen added. “Apparently, Shigure is Artorius’s bodyguard.”

He knew it was like setting a fishing lure. It was the truth, but still, he didn’t need to mention it at that point. Not when he knew Velvet was ready and willing to kill anything that stood between her and Artorius. It was the easiest way to rally her to his side. And she’d find out eventually, he justified.

“So we’ll have to face him down sometime, no matter what,” Velvet realized.

“It’s in our best interest to get rid of him while he’s working alone,” Eizen suggested. He sighed, hating to admit this next statement: “The problem is Rokurou can’t beat him by himself.”

“Agreed.” Velvet nodded. “Shigure’s not to be trifled with.”

He really did like her. While Rokurou’s flamboyance and seemingly sunny disposition were attractive, Eizen felt a different sort of kinship with Velvet. One in which the two of them were almost too similar; he wouldn’t have to worry about any allure there. One Eizen in any relationship was enough. But as a friend, she understood his pragmatism, and he hers. Magilou might turn the issue back around to talk about herself, Laphicet was naïve, Eleanor would dig in her heels and talk about morality, and Bienfu still didn’t count here. But Eizen knew he could be straightforward, even blunt with Velvet and she would simply nod and reply in kind.

“Certainly,” he mused. “That’s why when Rokurou creates an opening, we’re going to take Shigure out.”

“You want us to meddle in somebody else’s private quarrel?” She wasn’t implying they shouldn’t. No, she was simply making sure Eizen would stick to his word. After all, this didn’t seem to match his usual creed.

“If it affects my own quarrel? Yes.”

It was true. Eizen hadn’t forgotten Aifread. That would be like forgetting the sky above. No matter his feelings toward Rokurou, at the end of the day, Eizen’s quest to find out what had happened to his captain, his anchor, would always win out. And this Shigure debacle was getting in the way of that.

Though that didn’t mean he wasn’t still afraid for Rokurou.

“I suppose I’m in the same position,” Velvet mused. Good. Now they were on the same wavelength…more or less. “Besides, I can still use him. There’s no sense in throwing his life away.”

The only reason Eizen didn’t resent Velvet referring to Rokurou so callously, like a tool she was wielding, was because he had the inkling she didn’t quite think of him that way, no matter what airs she put on. But now he could ease into the subject naturally; “Rokurou’s not really a guy to care about the big picture. He might try to hack your limbs off a bit, but he’ll get over it.”

He wasn’t saying he would give up an arm to save Rokurou. That would be foolish. But he was at least willing to take a calculated risk about it.

After Velvet was silent a while, Eizen prompted, “What?”

“You don’t want him to die,” Velvet stated. Matter-of-fact.

“Legate or criminal,” Eizen told her, “I’ll knock down anything that stands in my way. And I’ll use any means necessary.”

“Except Rokurou. And don’t think I noticed that you changed the subject.”

“I don’t see why this matters,” Eizen huffed.

“Maybe it doesn’t.” Velvet shrugged, stalking off to talk to one of the others.

She may have been onto him. But she wasn’t berating him for it. Maybe she could relate. Eizen supposed maybe she’d had someone she felt about that way, long ago, in her own past, before Titania. Someone she’d had to eventually push away to keep safe, too.

(No. Someone she’d destroyed. Niko’s dead-eyed face staring up at her, not even able to plead. Never again, Velvet had vowed. And to think if she hadn’t been so convinced that a boy was the only option, she might have realized sooner, might have - )

She let him stew, and he kept thinking. Strategy. Intellect. That was what they needed. Shigure wasn’t immortal, nor invincible. He could be beaten. And they’d all be better off for it. Yes, Rokurou would be angry. Maybe he’d never forgive Eizen. Maybe that was a good thing, because it would mean he would permanently shut off any risk of getting too close. But he’d be alive. And that was what Eizen wanted.

Secondary to Aifread, of course.

* * *

He’d meant to hold back, the second time they’d encountered Shigure. He’d really meant to.

But Rokurou had run his own hand through, up to the hilt of Stormhowl, the blood painting a red streak on the stone of Port Cadnix, and his attempt to get closer had pinned him in place painfully, Shigure drawing back –

Eizen didn’t get there in time. Nor did Velvet, who he hadn’t expected to run out with him. But Rokurou had survived. He’d simply been thrown aside callously. Like a broken toy.

Eizen stood over him, stared, froze in place. Rokurou was clearly in pain, hand spewing a red fountain, choking on his own breath, humiliated at that. And Eizen didn’t know what to do without making it worse. He knew the yaksha’s eye was still illuminated, a red star in the black night of his face, and any attempt to touch him would end in Eizen being the next to shed blood.

Without even thinking, he’d reached out. (So many things he did without thinking around Rokurou, which was so unlike him.) When Rokurou had hit the ground, he’d attempted to touch him, malevolence be damned, because he was hurt, spilling blood far too much, humiliated –

But he retracted his arm at the last second. Because the yaksha would’ve attacked Eizen if he’d dared interfere. Now was not the time to imply Rokurou needed any sort of pity.

“HA-HA!” Shigure crowed. “Now, THAT was clever, giving up one of your own hands to go for my neck! If I was just a second slower, I’d be dead now! I like it. This is what I’ve been looking for!”

Such joy. Such pride. A Kurogane Dagger lay as shattered as Rokurou’s spirit on the dock.

“All right.” Shigure shouldered Stormhowl. “Let’s call it good here.”

Good? Rokurou would never accept that, and Eizen knew it. It wasn’t good until one of the brothers had killed the other.

“LISTEN UP!” Shigure proclaimed as Rokurou, now on his feet, fumed in silence. “If you all want any hope of beatin’ me, come find me once you’re more skilled and better armed!”

Rokurou’s breathing was heavy, his tone a low growl: “I’ll cut you down.”

Don’t lose yourself, Eizen prayed. Please, please, don’t lose yourself.

“No matter how many times I lose…” Rokurou growled. “No matter how many years it takes!”

Please.

“There we go,” Shigure encouraged. “That’s the face I’ve been lookin’ for. So vicious. It’s perfect!”

Then he turned on them all, laughing boisterously as he made his exit.

The aftermath left them all shaken. Eizen could do little more than agree with everyone else: Shigure was strong. Too strong.

But the ship had shown up to interrupt that line of thinking, and when Velvet said “Let’s get going,” Eizen tried not to make it obvious that he had a hurry in his step. The sole of his boot planted right onto the red trail Rokurou’s hand had left. It was still going. It would need to be patched.

So focused was he on this notion that he didn’t even notice the swordsman himself wasn’t keeping pace until he heard the call from further behind; “Hey, Eizen! Got any room on this pile of wood-scrap for a suit of armor?

There he was. The Rokurou that Eizen knew. Not lost. A smile crept up his face. “If not, make someone wear it,” he called back.

The smile faded immediately, but Rokurou let out a laugh and replied, “Works for me!”

Once they’d all assembled on the docks, as Velvet, Magilou, and Laphicet took stock of their agenda and Eleanor muttered to herself about Velvet’s clothes, Eizen stepped close to Rokurou; “Meet me belowdecks immediately.”

“Why are you so angry all of a sudden?” Rokurou teased. “It’s not like I – “

He instinctively raised his hand to clap down on Eizen’s shoulder. And immediately flinched. That had been the wrong hand to use. He peeled it away, the gash throbbing, observing the splatter of red he’d left on Eizen’s coat.

“That’s why,” Eizen asserted. “You need that wound dressed, or else you won’t make it to the next encounter with Shigure to begin with.”

“Uh…sorry about the coat,” Rokurou said sheepishly.

“Wouldn’t be the first time I had to wash blood out of it,” Eizen muttered. “On board, belowdecks, sit on the floor and don’t move. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

* * *

When Eizen made his rendez-vous, Rokurou was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the quarters where the crew’s hammocks hung, observing his wounded hand front and back. “It’s gross,” he remarked once he was aware of Eizen’s presence, “but kinda badass, too. Kinda hope it leaves a scar.”

“Proof that you were dumb enough to try that?” Eizen grumbled, sitting across from Rokurou and spreading out his medical supplies. “Give it to me.”

“Hey, it almost worked, and you know it!” Rokurou argued. But he put out his hand, palm up.

Eizen flinched to see how the blood oozed. It was a little thicker, a little darker than what might come out of a human. He uncorked a jar, explaining, “Most people consume gels to heal, but I’ve actually done some experimenting and found out that topical application can also close up a wound faster. That’s why I always keep a supply of gel melted down.”

“Phew!” Rokurou said dramatically. “And here I thought you were gonna make me eat one.”

“Oh, you’re still going to eat one. I’m just taking a double-pronged approach.”

“Ugh. I hate those things. They just feel wrong in my mouth.”

“Well, too bad.” Eizen had poured the viscous fluid onto a clean cloth, beginning to dab it over Rokurou’s wound lightly.

Such a temptation. He already had to maneuver Rokurou’s hand in order to treat it, flipping it over to coat both sides. And now his head was filled with all sorts of thoughts of caressing that hand with fingers and lips alike, pressing it close to his own heart, simply holding it for a while. No, not a good idea when it was in that condition, but Rokurou had another hand that was fine.

A worse idea. The Reaper couldn’t afford to get distracted by a person’s hands.

Not even when he was really noticing, even in the dim light, how much richer Rokurou’s skin tone was against his own, and how much more beautiful. Shigure had borne the same complexion, the same hair color, but not so much beauty. He lacked the sincere smile, the sparkle in Rokurou’s eyes that made the younger Rangetsu so enchanting. And from a less emotionally-driven standpoint, Eizen simply found Rokurou’s face shape more pleasing than Shigure’s. He hadn’t seen Rokurou disrobed from the waist up (or at all, really), but Shigure had strutted around with abdomen bared so all could see his musculature. Eizen wondered what Rokurou’s upper body did look like; surely better than Shigure –

He had to stop.

(Rokurou didn’t notice his silence because he was too wrapped up in the sensation of having his hand cradled and stroked by Eizen’s immense, solid hands. Even if it did come with shooting pain.)

“All right,” Eizen said once the gel application was done. “Now, we bind it you don’t lose any more.”

He’d brought with him a length of pristine white fabric, kept clean for the very purpose of first aid. He turned Rokurou’s hand back palm-up, starting to wrap the bandage around his wrist.

“Whoa,” Rokurou realized. “You’ve had a lot of chances to practice this on yourself, haven’t you?”

It took Eizen a minute. He then realized Rokurou was referring to the silver hairline scars on his hands. “My fists are my weapons,” he reminded the swordsman. “I put them in situations where they can get damaged. It’s still safer than the alternative.”

“That’s gotta suck, though. Getting your hands all cut up every time.”

“I’m used to it.”

The bandage began to web up around Rokurou’s fingers, wrapping perfectly over his injured palm. Not too tight, not too loose. “I can only do so much in the physical sense,” Eizen said at long last. “The rest, I can’t help you with.”

“The rest?”

After a silence, Eizen said, “The way you come so close to losing yourself when you’re around Shigure.”

“Oh.” Rokurou let out a heavy sigh. “Eizen, I hate to break it to you, but it’s not that. Kinda the opposite. What you saw back there…and in the ravine…and in the mines…that’s something that’s always been a part of me and always will be a part of me. Maybe even after I finally kill Shigure. I just…don’t show it most of the time. I guess you’ve probably only seen me act all happy – “

“So it’s an act.”

“No,” Rokurou corrected. “I have a lot to be happy about. It’s just…there’s more than just that. Trust me. No matter how many times I seem to lose control, the me you know will always come back. Promise.”

“Hm.” Eizen was smiling, almost imperceptibly. But it faded when he asked the question he needed to ask: “What made it that way?”

“Huh?”

“What drives your bitterness? What is it that made you fueled by that particular flame?”

“Not something I’m sure I wanna talk about with you right now,” Rokurou said as the bandage was wound round and round his hand, making a thick barrier of white fabric. “But I guess the short version is…I didn’t grow up at the wheel of my own ship. I grew up pulling an oar on the Rangetsu longboat. Being free is…new for me. But I wasn’t just a rung in the ladder. I was very clearly the lowest rung in the ladder. The broken one you can’t put your foot on. That’d make anybody bitter, if you ask me. Shigure always stood between me and everything I wanted, even before his name was Shigure. If you’d known me back then…you’d be surprised I do smile as much as I do now.”

“Was it gaining your freedom that gave you the ability to smile more?”

“I finally took control of my life,” Rokurou told him. “It…didn’t exactly work out, but it was better than what it had been.”

What would Eizen think, if he knew the truth? About the lies Rokurou had told? About the family blood he had no qualms shedding? Seeing him with his pirate crew, he got the sense Eizen valued community, loyalty, friendship. Everything Rokurou had destroyed on his fast track out of the Rangetsu clan.

Shigure was able to make him feel a hot streak of anger that refused to subside, only hid behind the rest of him. It was in the way he looked at Rokurou like he was nothing, even after Rokurou had made himself into something. But if Eizen ever looked at him that way, he was certain he would fracture in an entirely different direction.

“I’m glad,” Eizen stated. “Not that you’re bitter, but that you are steering your own ship now.” He tied off the bandage. “There. That should hold.”

Rokurou held up the hand, turned it back and forth to admire Eizen’s work. “I like it.”

“But don’t think I’ve forgotten.” Eizen had reached into the last jar, pulling out a small, round candy.

Rokurou’s face fell into a glare of derision. “I hate you sometimes. You know that, Eizen?”

“Don’t act like a child. I don’t want to get into a fight trying to make you take your medicine. And you don’t want to be treated that way, either.”

So Rokurou accepted the gel, throwing it between his back teeth and gnashing it quickly so he wouldn’t have to feel its rubberiness for long. Then swallowed, nearly gagging on the strong aftertaste of grape.

“He’s wrong, you know,” Eizen stated.

“Huh?”

“You’re not worthless, or a broken rung, or a disgrace.”

“Well, he doesn’t think that now – “

“I agree with him that your conviction is impressive,” Eizen said sternly, “but that’s not the only time you impress me. You’re an exceptional swordsman, Rokurou. And…important in other ways.”

Rokurou’s eyebrows flew upward.

“I can tell Velvet needs someone like you in the wake of Artorius revealing his true nature,” Eizen said hurriedly. “And Laphicet laughs at your jokes. You help hold this team together. Who knows? Maybe you can get Eleanor to fit in.”

“Huh.” Rokurou’s face fell.

“You don’t believe me,” Eizen told him.

“Well, yeah, I do,” Rokurou explained, “but don’t I mean anything to you?”

The expression on Eizen’s face told him he was potentially pushing it. Maybe. Eizen was the hardest person Rokurou had ever had to read, and he hated that so much. “As a friend,” the swordsman clarified. “We are pals, right?”

“I don’t fear for people who aren’t my friends the way I feared for you back in Port Cadnix,” Eizen explained. “So, yes. You mean something to me. But I don’t want the fact that we get along to cloud the objective fact that you have value with my bias.”

“Oh.” Now Rokurou looked absolutely flabbergasted. “Uh…thanks.”

Eizen rose. “The dual gels will kick in soon. Don’t use that hand until they’re done.” He turned to stalk up the stairs. “I mean it. If you open that wound back up, I’m not wrapping it a second time.”

“Hey, Eizen?”

Eizen turned to see Rokurou looking at him with focused intent.

“Shigure lied,” Rokurou stated, dead serious. “I did NOT piss my pants when I lost to him.”

“Never said I believed him,” Eizen replied. “Then again, if you felt the need to bring it all the way up, that doesn’t exactly sound like the kind of thing an innocent would say, now, does it?”

“EIZEN – “

Eizen practically scurried up the stairs, feeling a sense of mischief at leaving Rokurou to think he actually cared whether any such embarrassment had happened at all.


	5. Rhinostagros

Laphicet had insisted upon keeping the daemon beetle they’d found in Warg Forest. And really, no one could say no to the child.

“That bug…it looks pretty tough!” he cried happily, cradling the tiny daemon in his hands. Hard to believe that thing had been trying to maul them all earlier.

“Yeah!” Bienfu observed. “I’ve been around a long time, but I’ve never seen anything like it!”

“It must be a new species!” Laphicet gushed.

“Incredible!” Rokurou cried, wide-eyed. He was just as excited about the bug as Laphicet.

“A new species is usually named after the person who discovered it,” Eizen reminded Laphicet. “The Laphicet rhinoceros beetle, then?”

And so it began.

“Rhinoceros beetle?” Rokurou scoffed. “Whoa, now. That’s a stag beetle if I ever saw one.”

“No,” Eizen said flatly. “Those things may look like pincers, but they’re actually horns. A three-horned beetle will cause quite a stir in the bug community.”

“Hey, I know pincers when I see them,” Rokurou argued, “and those were some mighty pincers.”

One of them had to be wrong, of course, but if either ever doubted himself, he knew the game was too good to end now.

“The Laphicet STAG beetle!” Rokurou went on, beaming. “Has a better ring to it, right?”

“What part of that sounds better?” Eizen sounded on the verge of breaking.

“The whole thing!” Rokurou retorted. “Stag beetles are the strongest, after all.”

Oh, no. Now, Eizen couldn’t leave that one alone.

“I can’t let that go unchallenged. The rhinoceros is the king of beetledom!”

“Beetledom? Tch. More like beetle-DUMB!”

Eizen snapped in more ways than one. First of all, because making a nonsense pun was in no way an argument. But second, because that was the moment he realized he was in deep trouble. Because he loved the way Rokurou had said that. He loved how stupidly Rokurou had insulted him. He loved how even though he seemed angry, and to an extent was angry, this little fight gave him energy and life.

He’d fallen. He was in love with Rokurou Rangetsu.

And it was his own fault for not nipping it in the bud. How long he’d gone, simply letting the swordsman become a better and better friend to him, dressing his wounds, fearing for him, talking to him about the depths of their darknesses - !

“Huh? THAT DOESN’T HELP YOUR CASE AT ALL!” he yelled.

“Rokurou…” Laphicet groaned. “Eizen…”

Bienfu, ever melodramatic, moaned, “I…I feel a dangerous storm brewing!”

So did Eizen. For a completely different reason. And he was realizing it because of a beetle.

Rokurou was far from done; “The rhino is a one-trick pony with its horn, but a stag can cut its opponents in half. Its weapons can be used in any situation. The stag is a true swordsman!”

Eizen wasn’t even going to touch the fact that stag beetles could not, in fact, cut their opponents literally in half. “That’s petty trickery! The only beetle with the raw muscle to decide its own fate is the rhino!”

“But they only live for a year.” Rokurou was smugger than he’d ever been. “The stag can survive through the winter.”

“They live hard and die young!” Eizen cried. “Is the beauty of such a life lost on you?”

And that was when the dam broke for Rokurou as well. Because he was enjoying this argument far too much, and Eizen was more passionate than he’d ever been, always falling back on his boundless repertoire of knowledge, finding the beauty in the smallest insect, a childlike wonder hiding beneath his intimidating exterior but with the temper to match –

Rokurou’s crush hadn’t gone away. It had gotten worse over time. He was in love with Eizen.

And now he had to figure out what to do about it, because it seemed to him he should do something eventually, but it still was most certainly not the right time. Not when they still had to settle the matter of the (stag) beetle.

“Why is it that boys get so excited when they talk about bugs?” Eleanor sighed. Seeing her look on alongside Velvet and Magilou, all three sharing the same condescending glare, really reminded both men how she’d actually started to blend in, odd as it would seem.

“Rhinoceros, stag, or butterfly,” Magilou contributed. “It’s all no matter to me.”

“They all look like cockroaches,” Velvet said bluntly.

That, of course, was perhaps the most offensive thing anyone had said in that forest that day, and earned Velvet a harmonious chorus of both Rokurou and Eizen yelling at her, “THEY’RE TOTALLY DIFFERENT!”

They knew. Each was blind to the feelings of the other, but knew his own heart was clinched by the way they’d asserted that point.

Over a beetle.

Bienfu gave Laphicet a nudge; “So? What will you name it?”

“Umm…” Laphicet thought it over. “I think ‘rhinostagros,’ for now.”

Now both Eizen and Rokurou were panicking, though you couldn’t tell it from the outside. When they reached the sale’tomah they’d been questing for to begin with, and Eizen told Rokurou about how badly it tasted, enough to contort your body with pain, Rokurou found himself imagining eating the vile flower and doubling over on the ground for the express purpose of getting Eizen to fuss over him and try and talk him through it – to the point where he was disappointed when he remembered he was immune to Corsair’s Scourge and would have no other reason to dose besides deliberately trying to get attention (which might not be a bad way to get his foot in the door…).

And as Eizen described the sensation of taking sale’tomah, he, too, thought about what it would be like if Rokurou were affected, if it were as bad as Aifread had said, and, if he were allowed without hurting the swordsman’s pride, how Eizen might temper it by gently stroking his hair and whispering to him, probably needling him about having a sensitive tongue –

Not even factoring for malevolence.

They left the forest with two entirely different objectives regarding the same feelings. Rokurou had pocketed some extra sale’tomah, staging how he would make the confession. Eat it, succumb to the disgust, get Eizen’s attention, make Eizen ask why he’d done that when he was obviously immune to the Scourge, give an honest answer, let Eizen call him stupid and then see where it went from there.

But Eizen wanted out. He couldn’t feel like this. He couldn’t love anyone else. He’d chosen a life at sea for the express purpose of saving the last person he’d loved. In a way, he loved Aifread and Benwick, but not like that. Not in such a way that he felt they were in danger from him. But Rokurou…was this why he’d run into Shigure? Why his life continued to be hard after he had found his freedom? Because of Eizen?

Aifread…he was even losing sight of Aifread ever so little because of Rokurou, and that couldn’t happen. He had to get back on track.

So when Zaveid gave him the opportunity the moment they left Warg Forest, he ran. Away from Rokurou. Back to Aifread.

Rokurou tossed his sale’tomah into the waters of the fen.


	6. Coral

But it was all right, really. Because they’d gotten Eizen back, and all it had told Rokurou was that Eizen was not interested, because if he were interested, he wouldn’t have run, now, would he have?

Just a friend, and a friend he was glad to have back by the time they were trekking to Palamides via Manann Beach.

“This rocky shore just keeps going,” he observed. “Just don’t step on any sea slugs, okay?”

“Why not?” Velvet asked. “What’s the big deal?”

“It’s just that…it isn’t pretty,” Rokurou related, his voice becoming uncharacteristically meek. “Their insides squish everywhere…”

Don’t, Eizen told himself. Don’t pay attention to it. Don’t think about it. Don’t get more attached to him than you already are.

“Yikes!” Eleanor cried. “That sounds pretty traumatizing!”

“Then again,” Rokurou mused, all of his earlier inhibitions gone, “if you pickle their innards, it makes for a great snack…”

“You EAT them?” Eleanor yelled.

“Oh, don’t be a baby,” Velvet grunted. “You’ve had worse.”

“Forget the sea slugs.” Eizen mostly said this because he wanted to forget the sea slugs, himself. “Try not to step on the coral.”

“Good point!” Eleanor agreed. “Coral is alive, and needs our protection!” Well, agreed for the wrong reason.

“Or maybe it’s because some of it can be sold for jewelry,” Velvet mused.

“I didn’t mean either of those reasons,” Eizen groaned. “Although Manann appears similar to Maclir beach, it was formed by a completely different process.”

“Now that you mention it,” Rokurou remarked, “this area is covered by rocks.”

“Maclir is just your average seashore,” Eizen went on, “but Manann here was made by the slow corrosion of seaside caves.”

“They were worn away by the waves?” Eleanor guessed.

“That, too,” Eizen explained. “But mainly, it was the handiwork of a rock-eating species of coral known as ‘ravening table coral.’ Stay in contact long enough, and they’ll melt your flesh right off.”

What he absolutely did not expect Rokurou to say in return was “Ah! So that’s why it tingles every time I touch the coral!”

Eizen found himself gaping like a fish. Of course. Of absolute course Rokurou had poked the death coral. Because he would. That was the kind of thing he did. And now he probably had acid burns. Acid burns he would conveniently ignore until someone brought up that he had them.

“Why didn’t you warn us earlier?” Velvet growled.

“Apparently I should’ve,” Eizen grumbled.

“Oh, how wonderful,” Magilou remarked. “Even the coral is trying to kill us. This is just fun in the sun.”

The group progressed, but Eizen slowed his pace to match Rokurou’s. A smart man would leave it alone, but a true friend wouldn’t. “Rokurou.”

“Yeah?”

“Show me your hands.”

“What?”

“SHOW ME. YOUR HANDS.”

“Uh…okay.” Rokurou shrugged, then put out his hands, palms up, to Eizen.

Eizen let out a low hiss. As he’d expected. Mottled discolorations on the swordsman’s fingers. “I can’t believe you. You looked at a strange object and your FIRST INSTINCT was to touch it?”

“Um…yes? Is that a problem?”

“You wouldn’t last a day at sea,” Eizen scoffed.

“Pretty sure I’ve lasted several days at sea,” Rokurou remarked, grinning. “Check and mate.”

“Because I’m watching you to make sure you don’t fall overboard and get eaten by a shark. You’re a real idiot; you know that?”

Somehow, being called an idiot by Eizen wasn’t so much demeaning as it was a reassurance that their bond had in fact been repaired fully. “Does any idiot know he’s an idiot?” Rokurou posed.

“Go to the edge of the shore and put your hands in the water,” Eizen commanded.

“Wha – “

“PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE DAMN WATER. You need to flush those NOW, and we don’t have fresh on hand. The salt should have a saline effect.”

“Sure thing, Dad,” Rokurou grumbled, running a few paces ahead to reach the edge of the beach. He then knelt, placing his hands where he’d been told. “Okay, OW. This hurts.”

“It’ll hurt more if you let that acid keep eating away at you,” Eizen reminded him.

“What did Rokurou do now?” Velvet sighed.

“I think it had something to do with all that coral he touched,” Laphicet observed.

“Well, good thing he’s got his trusty sea captain to protect him,” Magilou said in a way that was perhaps just a bit too suggestive.

Eizen knelt beside Rokurou. “That should be enough.”

“Well, thank the Empyreans.” Rokurou pulled his hands out of the water, shaking them dry.

“We can work on them more when we get back to the Van Eltia,” Eizen told him. “For now, we’ll stem the damage with a double dose.”

“A double dose of wh – AUUUGGHHHHH YOU’RE KIDDING ME.”

Eizen had two grape gels in his outstretched palm.

“I really hate you sometimes,” Rokurou sighed.

Eizen loved the way he said he hated him.

The swordsman knocked back both gels, chewing as little as possible, and Eizen’s heart nearly stopped when it occurred to him that the very next thing that could happen was Rokurou choking on gels and needing to be bailed out yet again. If it weren’t for his immense daemon kill count, Eizen would be wondering how the man was even alive.

But he knew. It was his will, his determination. He could make it at sea if he really wanted to, on a threadbare raft with half a sail and no crew. Because he had conviction and refused to give in.

Eizen let out a low growl, clenching his teeth. He couldn’t fall out of love with Rokurou. It looked like that just wasn’t an option anymore. He could temper it by keeping his eyes on the goal that mattered most of all: Aifread. But he couldn’t leave again, not when all six of them (yes, six – Eleanor counted now. Bienfu still didn’t) relied on each other. Not when their missions aligned so closely that it couldn’t be coincidence anymore.

That left him the option of loving Rokurou and doing nothing about it, because at the end, they would need to go their separate ways. Permanently. And if Eizen could avoid bringing him any more pain during their journey –

Though it wasn’t like Rokurou wasn’t already an expert at doing that himself –

Then he would.

As for Rokurou? He still loved Eizen, but supposed that was just a hazard. Eizen was still so hard to read. Sometimes, he could swear he felt a spark of affection from the Reaper toward him, but then it was so quickly buried that he was sure he’d only imagined it. Either way, it wouldn’t go anywhere if neither of them said anything, and Rokurou didn’t see why he should say something if Eizen didn’t return his feelings. But Eizen at least still did care enough about him to make him stick his hands in salt water and make him eat gels, and that was all he could ask for, really.

This could work, each told himself. They just had to be sure not to act upon their secret feelings.

When they were up and walking again, Eizen asked, “So. You wanna tell me about the slug?”

“No.”

“It seems like that was a scarring memory from your childhood.”

“Yeah, drop in the bucket. I don’t wanna talk about the slug. Besides, you know how it ends. I pickled the guts and ate them.”

“THAT’S HORRIBLE!” Eleanor yelled. “You’re telling me you just ATE something you killed and felt sorry for?”

“I CAN’T IMAGINE WHAT THAT’S LIKE,” Velvet growled.

“Oh,” Eleanor said meekly. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Velvet grunted. “But if you don’t want us to call you cruel for eating pengyon – “

“OKAY, THAT’S DIFFERENT AND YOU KNOW IT!”

And all was right with the world.

Which was good, because once they discovered what lay at the heart of Palamides, the world would get a little less right.


	7. Drunk

Titania had once been a punishment for Velvet, Rokurou, and Magilou. Now, apparently, it was their home: iron bars, frigid walls and all. They’d fought not one but two venomized daemons over it, so they weren’t leaving anytime soon.

A night to rest before the chase of the next therion. They scattered about the atrium, relaxing in their own ways. Rokurou, for instance, was sharing a drink with Kurogane. Well, several drinks. He’d finally passed his limit and was just a bit loopier than usual, his inhibitions brought far down by the alcohol.

“Rokurou,” Velvet asked him. “Have you seen Eleanor?”

“Uhhhh, prob’ly?” Rokurou slurred. “Iunno. Bit drunk.”

And from the balcony on high, Eizen watched, staring intently. Because Rokurou could usually handle his liquor better than this, meaning he’d imbibed a lot more than usual, meaning something was wrong.

“Just try not to go overboard,” Velvet sighed as the swordsman stumbled, bracing a hand on the wall to keep from falling.

“But maaaaan, are we a buncha screwups or what?” Rokurou told her. “I mean, we’ve kidnapped a prince now! They GOTTA have laws against that. Broke outta prison, flattened Hellawes, tried to assassinate a Shepherd…” He sounded on the verge of laughter. “Hey, how many infractions ya think we’re on the hook for?”

So that was it, Eizen realized. Rokurou may have sounded lighthearted, but the weight of all they’d done was starting to catch up with him. He doubted Rokurou felt any actual remorse for any of it, but instead was concerned about the consequences, about how far they could push this mission before the foundation collapsed and crushed them all. And Eizen knew: he’d drunk away the creeping paranoia.

“Pardon me if I don’t stop and count,” Velvet told Rokurou. “If you don’t like it, nobody’s forcing you to tag along.”

“Nnnnnnno!” Rokurou whined. “I still haven’t repaid my debt to you!”

“You say that,” Velvet pointed out, “but you really just want to beat Shigure, don’t you?”

“Well, to me, they’re both connected,” Rokurou murmured. “Issa long story, but I can tell ya if y – “

“I’ll pass,” Velvet said sternly.

“Welllllllll…join me for a drink, then?”

Velvet gave a curt “Can’t. I’m nineteen.” before stalking off to continue her search for Eleanor.

“YOU NEED TO BE AN ADULT TO DRINK!” Rokurou called tipsily after her. “I DON’T CARE IF YOU’RE A DAEMON. THAT RULE’S UNIVERSAL!”

Eizen’s grip tightened on the balcony lip. He knew one of the missing links. Rokurou wanted to pay his debt to Velvet because they all owed her, really, and they all wanted to keep traveling along with her. Eizen was starting to dread the day that she would part ways with the Van Eltia. She fit in, like a pirate.

(Though saying goodbye to Rokurou would be even harder. If inevitable. What business would a Rangetsu have on a pirate crew? And Eizen couldn’t give his life at sea up, not for anything.)

As for whatever story Rokurou had been stopped from telling, he was glad, because given past events, he knew it wasn’t a story Rokurou would have willingly told sober. Velvet had almost teased some highly confidential information out of him.

If only –

“Hey. You got any idea where Eleanor is?”

Eizen should’ve figured Velvet would ask him. “No. Sorry. I was having a meeting with Benwick and the crew about our search for Aifread.”

“Are you sure you’re okay with putting that off?” She was legitimately concerned. She was changing, a little every day that she spent with the others. “At this point, the Abbey doesn’t have much reason to keep him alive. Wouldn’t you rather look for him than therions?”

“I know time is a factor,” Eizen replied, “but we still don’t have any decent leads.” An hour and then some chattering with Benwick and the others, and they’d come up with absolutely naught. “I think we need to stir up the Abbey and see what shakes loose.” Connected, it was all connected. “And who better to do that than you?”

She was young. She was impetuous. She was filled with rage and grief. And she was the best leader any of them could have asked for in this venture.

“So this works for both of us, then,” Velvet remarked.

Eizen stood up straight, folded his arms. “Never fear. I’m still acting out of self-interest.”

And this, he managed to say while keeping his gaze fixed at the door in the far wall. Keeping Rokurou in his periphery. Not letting on that Rokurou could in any way be tied to his particular self-interest. “Besides, Aifread won’t die so easily.”

He kept telling himself that to keep up hope that the man who’d shown him how to steer his course was still waiting for him, for Benwick, for every last man of the crew down to the sylphjays. They were orphans seeking their long-lost father to guide them. And he certainly was tough enough to be loftier than the rest, to act as the patriarch of a slew of adult men. He’d weathered many storms. Surely he would come out of this one with only a scratch or two.

Velvet had heard many tales that affirmed this, so she agreed; “He’s a strong man. It’d take a lot to bring him down.”

It was still very good for Eizen to hear reassurance from another. “Yeah. I’ve never seen him flinch from a storm, no matter how choppy the seas.”

“‘Where angels fear to tread,’ as they say?”

“Heh…probably some of that as well.”

Velvet moved on, and Eizen continued to watch Rokurou laugh off his despair with Kurogane as the liquor pooled through the cracks in Kurogane’s plating around his feet. Now Rokurou was slapping Kurogane on the pauldron, wheezing about how if the Abbey cornered him here, at least he already had a cell he’d managed to get semi-comfortable in once!

He was afraid and Eizen knew it.

Eizen let out a rough sigh. Stab wounds, he could fix. Acid burns, he could fix. But emotional wounds? He didn’t even know where to begin. He’d never been good at that sort of thing. He and Edna had never needed to exchange too many words to know each other’s feelings, and as for the crew, the most emotionally volatile of them was Benwick, and Benwick would at worst just need a silent shoulder to cry on before picking up his own pieces. And all Eizen was good at was being silent.

How would he even begin? Probably by walking down the stairs and saying something to Rokurou instead of spying on him like a vulture. But what would he even say? He hadn’t the faintest. He supposed he could be the silent shoulder again, but wasn’t even sure how to approach that. Rokurou obviously wasn’t as straightforward as Benwick.

“Ooh, how scandalous! The secret admirer looks on to the apple of his eye from above, hoping against hope that one day, his feelings will be returned! Oh, the drama of it all! How will it end?”

Eizen bristled, then looked to his left to see Magilou smirking at him.

“And don’t tell me I’m wrong,” the witch said mischievously. “Maybe to the untrained eye, you don’t have many tells, but you forget: I’m a witch, and a master of mind-reading.”

“It isn’t like that,” Eizen stated.

“Really?” Magilou scoffed. “You’re gonna try and pull that on me? I know your heart beats for one red-eyed yaksha.” She gave Eizen a nudge with her elbow; he didn’t react. “So. Thinking about how he’s finally showing off the daemon’s inner daemons? Wondering how to be the arms he rushes into?”

“He’s a friend,” Eizen reminded her. “I have every right to be concerned for his well-being, especially if I don’t think he’s doing that well. That said, it wouldn’t be right of me to intervene.”

“Are you shy, lover boy?” Magilou teased. “Think about it! This could be your moment! You approach while his inhibitions are lowered, glowing like an angel, and he lets you take him into his arms, drunkenly biting at your lips, moaning as you pin him to the – “

“MAGILOU.”

“Oh, don’t tell me you DON’T have a library of deliciously lascivious fantasies about him!” Magilou scoffed.

“That’s not your business!” Eizen snapped. Then, because having it known was more important than keeping the secret: “Also, I don’t appreciate how you imply I would violate his consent or take advantage of him, even in my imagination!”

“Oh, you’re in deep,” Magilou remarked.

“I’m just saying I wouldn’t go after him intoxicated,” Eizen asserted. “Even if anything could happen between us, which it can’t, I would only take him with his full consent!”

“Let me guess,” Magilou mused. “Either the malevolence or the Reaper’s Curse.”

“The malevolence wouldn’t be a problem,” Eizen stated. “I’ve already taken on and expelled a lot from him. I’m just careful now to monitor my own level before I get close.”

“But that would keep you apart in the bed, right?”

“Not necessarily. Not if my level was – “ Eizen flinched. “Can you stop talking about me and Rokurou in the bedroom?”

“So it’s the Curse.”

“If I let myself get attached to him,” Eizen asserted, “if he gets attached to me, he’ll get hurt. I take my own risks, but I can’t afford to gamble with Rokurou’s life. Though I’m guessing he wouldn’t have any interest anyway.”

“Maybe not,” Magilou mused. Then was silent for a while.

“And?” Eizen pressed.

“And what?” Magilou shrugged.

“I know you’re just waiting to say something that’ll offend me.”

“Oh, no, not at all!” Magilou said innocently, rocking back and forth on her heels. “I was just thinking about what would happen if you could make it work with Rokurou, curse and all. Might seem a little unfair to anyone else you’ve turned away because of it, wouldn’t it? Then you’d have to figure out if that was really the only reason you kept running.”

Eizen’s entire body tensed.

“But that’s just a theory,” Magilou told him. “After all, it’s not as if we know a list of the people you’ve abandoned…just that you happened to turn up on the Van Eltia alone. Well, if you want my opinion, the two of you already fight like a married couple, so you might as well make it official. But it’s not any of my business. Oh, I won’t lie, it would be fun to bring your star-crossed souls together by airing your dirty laundry, but all in all…I can’t say it would really have any effect on me personally.” She gave another shrug. “I’m going to go see how my old cell is holding up. Maybe I can give it a little makeover to be more comfortable…”

And then she was gone, leaving Eizen with a lot to think about.

He didn’t leave his roost until most of the pirates had exited the atrium, heading deeper within the prison island to find their new quarters. Kurogane and Rokurou were the last to leave. Rokurou collapsed onto Kurogane’s lap, and Kurogane decided that was enough for one drinking session, moving him aside onto the stone and getting up to leave.

Eizen almost thought the way Kurogane was angled to him as they crossed paths indicated that had Kurogane a head, it would be giving Eizen a knowing, urging look. Did he know, too? How many people knew?

Rokurou was alone on the stone floor, muttering to himself, and Eizen now knew the basics of what he had to do at least. He descended the stairway, gently approaching the sprawled yaksha.

“Oh, hey, Eizen,” Rokurou greeted. “Wanna drink?”

“You’ve had enough,” Eizen told him. “You should sleep it off for the night. We have a lot to do from here on out.”

“Yeah. Lots to do. Eeeeeeeyup.” Rokurou gave a sigh.

“Listen.” Eizen knelt beside him. “I know we’re going up against the whole world. I know it isn’t easy. But – “

He really shouldn’t have started that sentence, because he had no idea how to end it.

“Nah, we’re just screwed!” Rokurou said with a bright smile.

“…We are,” Eizen admitted. “I’m not going to lie about it. After all, I am the Reaper.”

“Well, I picked walkin’ withhhhhhe Reaper. Iss fun.”

“I – “ Eizen flushed. He would describe himself as many things, but not “fun.”

“Naaaahhhhh, I’ll get over it,” Rokurou murmured. “I just gotta…y’know…I’m tired.” He attempted to roll over onto his stomach. “G’night.”

“You can’t sleep there!” Eizen scolded.

“Why not? Says who? You’re not my mom.”

“You’re just going to wake up bruised, uncomfortable, and complaining,” Eizen told him. “At least get up and move to one of the mattresses we rolled out!”

“Arrriiiiiight, arrriiiiiiight.” Rokurou centered his hands beneath himself, doing a push-up to initiate standing. He got all the way up to his feet, and immediately toppled right back down.

Eizen, quick as lightning, rose, catching Rokurou before he could hit the floor. It was horrible. He was unbelievably flustered and all too aware of what Rokurou felt like in his embrace. A few “deliciously lascivious” thoughts managed to worm their way into his mind, and he quickly nipped them.

“You’re not a good pillow,” Rokurou muttered. “You’re too hard.”

“Well, then you should find a soft one,” Eizen told him. “I…” He was painfully aware now that Rokurou was embracing him in return. “I’ll – “

“You’re a great guy, Eizen. Real great. I ever tell you you’re so great? ‘Cause you’re great.” Rokurou snuggled against his chest. “Gotta secret. Don’t tell anybody. I like makin’ fun of you, but I liiiiiiiike you.”

“I…I’m fond of you, as well,” Eizen replied. It almost hurt to keep back the true depths of what that meant. “And as I was saying, I’ll help you get somewhere actually comfortable. Just don’t let go.”

“I’m glad I can lean on you when I need to. You should lean on me, too!”

Eizen smiled. “Let’s go.”

Rokurou babbled on as the two of them made their way down the winding hallway, but his drowsiness caused him to make less and less sense with every step. By the time they entered the first unoccupied cell, outfitted with softer bedding imported from the Van Eltia, Rokurou finally just passed out, slumping over and nearly bringing down Eizen with the bulk of his weight. Eizen held firm, practically dragging Rokurou to the bed. Only now did he take any stock of his malevolence level, but he felt perfectly clean.

Rokurou was laid down on the mattress, gently covered with the downy blanket. Eizen watched him sleep for a minute or so, thinking back to how he’d looked in the Bloodwing Butterflies Bar bed. The one they’d shared.

Then he turned and made his exit, distracting himself by thinking about the fortress. It could use some extra features to really make it hold against the enemy. Such as secret tunnels. No, wait – those wouldn’t go anywhere. They couldn’t, not this far out at sea. But Eizen wanted them, so he would find a way. Maybe it was silly, but at the same time, he knew at least one other person would back him up. After all, Rokurou was so excited about the prospect of a secret fort.


	8. Coin

Rokurou wanted to break the Reaper’s Curse.

He would have wanted to do so even if he weren’t in love with Eizen. It wasn’t fair, that someone should have to be shackled down by that, especially someone who valued his own freedom so much. It had to have been causing him a lot of anxiety underneath his stoic façade. And Rokurou usually didn’t care about what was fair or would make others anxious, but –

All right, maybe he did only want to do it because it was Eizen.

But how? He didn’t know the first thing about malakhim or their blessings outside of what Eizen had told him about malevolence and mana. Maybe there was a way to toy around with artes and alter the mana they were made of? But that seemed too easy. Surely Eizen would’ve thought of that and had someone try. That stupid coin of his still kept coming up tails.

But maybe that was the key. The coin. Silly as it sounded, Rokurou figured that if the coin could flip heads, just once, it would mean the Reaper’s Curse wasn’t a death sentence. That it could be bent if not broken outright.

And there was one really easy way he knew of to get a coin to come up heads.

“Kurogane!” Rokurou strode into the forge the daemon had set up in Titania’s bowels. “Got a special request for ya!”

“I’m still working on it,” Kurogane seethed. “Orichalcum…it’s temperamental. The sword won’t be finished for – “

“No, no, no, not that!” Rokurou corrected. “I want you to make me a two-sided coin.”

“…What?”

“You heard me. I want you to make me a two-sided coin. Preferably not out of yourself. I’ll pay you.”

“What do you want a two-sided coin for?” Kurogane asked. “Can you not settle any disputes that would require flipping one with your own swords?”

“Let’s just say I’m doing a friend a solid,” Rokurou told him.

Kurogane realized. “Both heads, then?”

“Yeah! How’d you know?”

Because Rokurou was one of the least subtle people in the entire world. Truth be told, Kurogane half wanted to steer him and the pirate together. They complemented each other. He’d been brought reports from Laphicet that the two of them were spotted saying things in unison after the battle, and they both had the same taste for seafood and sweets. “Call it intuition,” he stated.

This was perfect, as far as Rokurou was concerned. Now, Eizen couldn’t possibly lose –

Unless something weird happened to the coin, Rokurou realized, which was exactly what was going to happen. He could picture it clear as day: Eizen would flip it and it would simply explode. Physically impossible, but also a very good point. The Reaper’s Curse wouldn’t let Rokurou best it so easily.

“On second thought,” he told Kurogane, “double that order. I’m gonna need two – “

No. If he was going to do this, he was going to do it right. Once and for all. The end of the Curse.

“Triple it,” he decided in the end. “Three coins.”

* * *

“No reply this time, either?”

They all knew something was up with Eizen. He’d packaged up that pot they’d caught fishing and was in the process of grilling White Turtlez to send it off to an unknown recipient. It brought to mind the illusion Melchior had tempted him with: the one he’d never bothered to explain.

“Nah, but she’z doin’ okay,” White Turtlez replied. “I can sayz that much.”

“That’s good to hear.” The relief on Eizen’s face was obvious. “I can rest easy, then.”

“Nowz about gettin’ that pot wrapped,” White Turtlez replied; “I’z gotz this new sunflower print, huh? How’z that sound?”

“Hmm…” Eizen took a look at the paper pensively. “Yeah. That one’s cute enough. Let’s go with that.”

Well. Eizen certainly had never cared about “cute” before.

Rokurou spoke for all of them (Velvet, Laphicet, Eleanor, and Magilou, who flanked him in spying) when he said “Did…did he just say ‘cute’?”

Eizen noticed, for the first time, that he had not one but five onlookers. It took him a moment to get his bearings and shove down the discombobulation at being caught red-handed having a heart. After a long silence, he grunted, “Help you with something?”

Velvet could always be trusted to be as blunt as necessary. She stepped forth, extending the wayward parchment they’d all found in the entry earlier. “Someone dropped this letter. Do you have any idea who it might – “

Eizen was mortified. Not only was that letter one of his communications to Edna, but he’d signed that one with his true name. If they’d read it –

Even he was surprised by how quickly he snapped it from Velvet’s hand. “You didn’t read it, did you?” he growled.

“Wait.” Velvet flinched in unison with Eleanor and Laphicet. “It’s yours?”

Magilou was pretending to be uninterested. Or maybe she really was. And Rokurou now had a suspicion he really didn’t like.

“We didn’t read it,” he lied quickly. Except he couldn’t really lie to Eizen, so it ended in “…Much.”

“You REALLY didn’t read it?” Eizen had somehow missed the obvious tells in Rokurou’s statement. And given how frightening he looked, as though he were ready to break the other five in half with his bare hands if they’d actually looked at the parchment, no one wanted to let him in on them.

“N-no!” Laphicet cried. “Of course not!”

Well, if they hadn’t read it, they wouldn’t know what was in it, and therefore couldn’t infer anything about him if he owned up to having written it. He handed it right over to White Turtlez; “Put this letter in with the package.”

Thereby sealing the envelope and his fate.

“You’z gotz it!” White Turtlez said happily. “When you ship with the Turtlez Express, rest assured your mail is in good handz!”

“If you’re done here, we’re ready to head out,” Velvet informed Eizen as White Turtlez set about heaving the enormous pot toward his small merchant vessel. “Our destination is Midgand.”

“Yeah.” Eizen strode toward the dock. “I’m all set.”

Eleanor, Magilou, and Velvet followed, but Rokurou hung back, catching Laphicet’s shoulder. His suspicions were growing by the second, and he wanted to have a chat with the other man of the group about what he feared. Besides, he and Laphicet were good friends. And he’d helped clear up a lot of Laphicet’s worries. The kid could surely handle helping him with one of his own!

Laphicet spoke before Rokurou could even bring it up; “Was he sending a gift to someone? And with a letter, too…”

Rokurou folded his arms, pouted, and admitted his fear (though not with the context that would let on that it was a fear): “Gotta be a ladyfriend, that’s for sure.”

“You think?” Laphicet gasped. He obviously thought it would be a good thing if Eizen had a girlfriend. “Either way, that letter was really polite…and did you see that penmanship?”

Rokurou had definitely seen Eizen’s penmanship. It hardly looked natural. Well, he wasn’t human, so that figured. But Rokurou had never really thought someone’s handwriting could be pretty until he’d looked at the gentle loops and curls of those letters. “Yeah. I didn’t know ol’ Reaps had it in him.”

“I CAN HEAR YOU TWO, YOU KNOW!” came echoing across the dock.

Rokurou and Laphicet flinched in unison as they caught another one of Eizen’s glares.

“Would you believe I meant it in a good way?” Rokurou defended as Eizen approached him. “You know, because it’s surprising that your penmanship is so flowery, given that the rest of you is so intimidating-looking – “

Oops.

The cuff that Eizen gave Laphicet on the head was light. More of a theatrical gesture than anything. After all, Laphicet was only a child. Rokurou’s blow came a little harder.

“Now that’s enough,” Eizen warned. “My business is my business. Not yours.”

It occurred to him that Rokurou thought he was writing to a lover. And maybe that was for the best. Because if Rokurou thought Eizen was off the market, he wouldn’t pick up on the signals. Or, as unlikely as this possibility was, chase him.

He turned on a heel, hoping his lesson had been imparted. Heart heavy because he couldn’t tell the truth for a number of reasons now. He thought he trusted Rokurou and the others at least to let them know about Edna…but he just couldn’t bring the words up. Maybe because to know about Edna was to truly know Eizen, and he still wasn’t sure if he was ready for that with any of them.

As he sulked past Velvet and Magilou (the latter begging the former for a cute nickname to match Laphicet’s new “Phi”), he tossed the coin that served as his vessel again. Tails. As usual. Maybe if it had come up heads, he would have let down his inhibitions. Trusted his team. Told them everything. But the coin reminded him that any action he took could have horrible repercussions.

Rokurou’s heart boiled. So Eizen had a girlfriend. If he hadn’t denied it, that meant it was most certainly the truth. Rokurou thought he had accepted the fact that he couldn’t be Eizen’s partner, but all the same, jealousy was surging through his veins. And with jealousy came desperation. For once, he didn’t want to solve this problem by just slashing through it with a pair of daggers forged from a daemon’s helmet-head. There had to be a way to get Eizen’s attention, to remind him of how awesome the yaksha was, to maybe one-up this girlfriend –

Because would this mystery girl have gone to the length of breaking Eizen’s curse for him?

Rokurou gave Laphicet’s back a push toward Eizen; “Go tell him you feel bad for him never getting heads.”

“What?”

“Just go do it! Trust me! It’s gonna be like apologizing for what we said!”

So Laphicet approached Eizen with Rokurou in tow, saying mournfully, “It must not feel great only ever getting tails, I bet.” Which Laphicet really did believe and feel sorry for Eizen over.

Eleanor loomed into the vicinity, curiosity getting the best of her. She’d finally admitted her true nature to her teammates, and had pledged to cast aside Artorius’ mission for the sake of seeking the truth with them. Though really, that was in no small part because she had become endeared to their antics. Things never got this fun around Oscar and Teresa, that was for sure.

“Nah,” Eizen groaned, “I don’t really mind that much.” Though his voice seemed to suggest otherwise. “It’s way too late for me to start letting that bother me.”

So he’d given up, then. Perfect time for Rokurou Rangetsu to save the day.

“Yeah, but wouldn’t it be nice to get heads at least once?” Rokurou’s smile betrayed he had a contingency plan. Or rather three of them, hot off the Kurogane mint, in his pocket. “Hell, I know I’d like to see that, and I bet Laphicet here does, too.”

“Yeah!” Laphicet chirped, as if he knew his line already. “I do!”

“Right?” Now was the time. Rokurou smirked slyly. “That’s why I’ve brought something a little special…”

The first coin came out atop his palm. “Ta-daaaaa!”

“What’s so special about that coin?” Eleanor asked. “It looks identical to the one Eizen already has.”

“The front side does, yes,” Rokurou explained. “But…” He flipped it over on his palm, briefly revealing the scar from when he’d run that hand through with Stormhowl. “Both sides of the coin are actually heads! I had Kurogane make it for me custom. If both sides are heads, then not even the Reaper’s Curse can stop it!”

“Well, yeah,” Eleanor commented, “but that’s cheating. What’s the point in getting heads if it’s rigged that way?”

Rokurou didn’t feel there was anything wrong with cheating a curse, but he experienced a brief flash of panic. Eizen was a very by-the-book man. He was probably going to agree with Eleanor on that one.

But to his surprise, Eizen instead said, “It’s not cheating. It’s called effort and hard work.”

“How?” Eleanor asked.

“If you always work hard and never give up,” Eizen explained, “you’ll make your own way forward.”

And Rokurou had put in the work for him. Gone to the trouble of trying to break his Curse. Made him a custom coin, just for this purpose. Eizen could always say he had a good poker face, and he was grateful for that now, because he didn’t want any of the three before him, especially Rokurou, to see how deeply that small act had touched him.

“All right,” Eizen declared with a light smile. “I’m in. I’ll get that heads for you.”

Except when he tossed the coin, there was a flutter of wings –

“WHAT?”

“That crow just flew off with the coin!”

“Those birds are attracted to shiny objects, I suppose.” Eizen’s smile had downturned hard. “Dammit, I can’t even win against a crow!”

He turned his back on the others, which made Rokurou realize the urgency of the situation. He was ready to cheat fate until the last ante.

“Don’t sweat it!” he revealed. “I figured something like this might happen, so I had a backup ready.”

Eizen turned, stunned to see another golden coin in Rokurou’s outstretched hand.

“Go on,” Rokurou encouraged, “give it a shot! You’ll show that Curse who’s boss this time!”

Why would Rokurou do something like this? Did he know Eizen was trying to cover up feelings for him? Was he trying to make them worse? That would be just like him, attempting to frustrate Eizen. The next move in their rivalry. But if it were a blow in their playful fights, then why did it come across as so unabashedly kind and selfless?

Because Rokurou was an idiot, that was why. Only he would try and escalate a fight by being nice.

But Eizen wasn’t going to turn down the second opportunity. “All right…here goes.”

This time, no crow interrupted the path of the coin.

The hawk-therion did.

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME?”

Rokurou could sense Eizen about to fall to despair. Time to play the ace up his sleeve. “Not to worry!” He produced the third coin. “I’ve got a spare backup. It’s time to put that curse on notice!”

Something in Eizen’s mind nagged at him. This didn’t seem like it was Rokurou trying to escalate the rivalry anymore. It reminded him of something else, but he was too obsessed with the coins to tease out exactly what.

“Right…here I go.” He gave it a flip.

Rokurou, Laphicet, and Eleanor watched intently.

And, just as Rokurou had predicted, the coin simply exploded.

This time, it wasn’t Eizen who made the outburst, but Rokurou: “You gotta be kidding me! Reaper’s Curse or not, does it really have to go this far over a damn coin?”

Eizen gave a sigh, exhaling all of his frustrations. “It’s fine. Really. I had a feeling it’d turn out like this.”

As Eleanor and Laphicet expressed that this was absolutely not how it should’ve turned out, Eizen began to ruminate on what sort of implication he was picking up, exactly, from Rokurou’s actions. As the group proceeded down the dock to board the Van Eltia, it finally clicked.

Horror chilled its way over Eizen, top to bottom, as the possibility that Rokurou returned his feelings dawned on him.

* * *

Eventually, he could no longer hide that Edna wasn’t his girlfriend but his sister.

Rokurou was relieved for more than one reason. First of all, it meant Eizen wasn’t tied down. Second, it meant if anything ever did become of them, he’d have a guaranteed cool sister-in-law.

Velvet, Eleanor, Magilou, Laphicet, Edna…five true siblings to replace the five competitors he’d been forced into the ring with because they shared the same parentage, and had to slay or be slain by.


	9. Fishing

Way back when Laphicet had pinpointed the earthpulse point in the Western ocean, Rokurou and Eizen had posed a friendly competition. Whoever caught the therion first would be the winner. Whoever didn’t had to be the other’s servant for the day.

Eizen had admittedly been excited by the concept. No one could fault him for wanting to be a little closer to Rokurou when it was the result of a lost bet, could they? Not even himself. It was the terms of the contest. And if he wanted to use that opportunity to spoil the swordsman, well, then it was required of him anyway.

It hadn’t even occurred to him that Rokurou might ask other things of him. Lewd things. The type of things you read about men requesting of their servants in cheap romance novels.

Rokurou had no intention of doing so, of course. But he had read many a cheap romance novel, and it did occur to him that if Eizen lost, he might be asked to do some very interesting things. Though he could sure shake things up on the way there. Frustrate the man by intentionally messing up his orders, then note that he needed to make it up to him somehow, in a big way. Steal Velvet’s cleaning apron – it would look goofy on him, but set the tone. (Would it be too demeaning to borrow one of Magilou’s little skirts as well? Yes. Yes, it would. Pretend he never thought that.)

Anyway, even though he had decided confessing was a bad idea a while ago, back when Eizen had run after Zaveid, part of him still wanted to try it and see what happened. Worst case, Eizen would run away again. But then he wouldn’t have his lead on Aifread anymore, now, would he? Same way that if Rokurou left, he wouldn’t have his lead on Shigure (and it was starting to become painfully clear that the Abbey had its fingers in a great many pies).

But nothing had come of it. The therion wasn’t caught, and so nobody was anybody’s servant.

Fast forward. On the Titania docks, Magilou happened to ask who had won the fishing competition all the way back when, and Eizen knew exactly why. But when Rokurou insisted he had been the loser, Eizen was quick to correct him. It was Eizen who had lost. He’d threatened the crew with the danger he’d pulled up in the pot that now rested in Edna’s humble house.

But Rokurou kept insisting he was the one to have lost, and Eizen couldn’t have that, because it meant he would have to give Rokurou the orders if the terms of their competition still held, and what orders could he give that wouldn’t give the game away? No, he wanted Rokurou to order him around. Give him that chance to spoil him rotten. Without any chance of slipping up.

Rokurou, of course, figured that commanding Eizen would be very little fun and offer him no opportunity to confess and see what happened, and so he wanted that dishonor for himself. Why Eizen fought so hard baffled him…somewhat. He still thought, every now and again, that it seemed the pirate did feel for him. But as soon as those inklings came, they were disproven. After all, why fake having a girlfriend?

So they came up with a new competition. Next chance they got, they’d drink to see who won. Neither would throw it – neither was that sort, but they both wanted to lose.

On Bienfu’s suggestion, they went out fishing again to pick up some snacks to sate their seafood craving that would certainly come up again once they’d had so much sake, and then that ended up turning into a contest as well.

“So something’s bothering me that Magilou said,” Rokurou brought up as they were out on the open water, just the two of them in their small boat, the only two people in the whole world if they wanted to be.

“A lot of things bother me that Magilou says,” Eizen replied. “But go on and elaborate.”

“When we proposed an arm-wrestling contest,” Rokurou said, “she said a malak and a daemon holding hands would be too risky because of the malevolence. Does that mean we’re not supposed to touch each other?”

Eizen’s heart nearly stopped.

“I mean, like, in an accidental way!” Rokurou hurried to say. “I wouldn’t want to turn you into a dragon because I bumped into you on the battlefield. Heheh…yeah.”

“It’s not that simple,” Eizen explained. How could he put this? “Do you like palmiers?”

“What does that have to do with – “

“Well, do you?”

“Yeah,” Rokurou answered. “Especially the ones you make. Damn, they’re good.”

Eizen contemplated telling him about why he’d taken up palmier-making, but bit his tongue. That would be getting too far off topic. “Malevolence from physical contact with a daemon is to me like palmiers are to anyone else.”

“I don’t get it.”

“You can eat a palmier on its own and be just fine,” Eizen explained. “But if it’s all you ever eat, then over time, your blood sugar will rise and inhibit your circulation, which can lead to all sorts of complications, including death. You shouldn’t eat palmiers too often, but you’ll be fine if you space them out and alternate them with other things. Malevolence from a daemon is like that for me. My body will naturally recycle it the way it recycles nutrients. If I spend too much time holding onto a daemon, skin-to-skin with no protection, then eventually, it’ll take its toll and I’ll start to turn dragon. But if the contact is only occasional, then I’ll take on a little malevolence and have to wait to recycle it out, but then be able to take it again. So if you do something stupid that hurts your hand again, I can tend to it without being afraid for my own health so long as we haven’t spent the past twenty-four hours hugging bare-chested.”

“Huh,” Rokurou pondered. “Makes sense.”

“How palmiers affect your diet also depends on your blood sugar level day by day, too,” Eizen went on. “Some days, you can eat ten and it won’t have an effect. Other days, because of what else you’ve eaten and other factors, half a palmier is pushing it. With a malak, it depends on the circumstances that normally cause malevolence in humans. Basically, if I’m in a good mood, I could wrestle your arm to the tabletop in five seconds flat.”

“Hey now.”

“But today, I actually have been under quite a bit of stress,” Eizen explained, “so it makes me feel a little safer that we’re seated a little bit apart, and back-to-back so any accidental contact will be shielded by our clothing. It’s not that I’m in any danger of being turned today, but it’s still better to think about the long-term so I can keep recycling malevolence properly.”

“I gotcha,” Rokurou told him. “Okay. That makes sense.”

So there were circumstances under which they could touch. That was good to know, in case things went anywhere.

(Eizen knew Magilou had planted that little seed knowing Rokurou would ask.)

“But I have one more question,” Rokurou realized.

“Yeah?”

“What’s making you so stressed today? Just the usual?”

Eizen sighed. “I don’t like admitting when I’m afraid for Aifread, even to myself.”

“You see him as kind of a dad, don’t you?”

“Yes and no,” Eizen answered. “That would probably be the closest description of our relationship. But you know how things turned out with my sister. So I’m not as close to him as a son could be. That’s more of Benwick’s job. I make sure to keep my distance just enough.”

“Still. Gotta be rough to lose your dad for so long.” It also had to be nice to have a father figure who actually loved you, assured you of your own self-worth. Rokurou hadn’t had that. So it was only fair Eizen should get to. “We’re gonna find him.”

“We’re also going to put Shigure in his place.”

“No,” Rokurou insisted. “I’M going to beat Shigure. WE’RE gonna find Aifread.”

Eizen smiled, feeling his mana lighten to open up a little more capacity to tolerate malevolence from those words alone.

They didn’t catch any fish that day, either.


	10. Aball

Laphicet was alive. No, not the Phi they’d been traveling with, but the Laphi that Velvet had grown up with. The one whose death had spurred all of this.

Did that mean it was all for naught?

No. It meant it was all too convenient. Eizen could smell the foul play dripping off Aball Village. Everyone here was too nice, and, most importantly, alive when they should be dead. It was a trap set by the Abbey. But what kind?

Melchior’s illusory artes were the biggest suspect. Eizen wondered about the quickest way to test them. This particular arte seemed to be showing people what they wanted to see, without any chance of it being ruined. So if Eizen were able to pick the person he cared about most in the party and sock him in the stomach, that would mean the illusion wasn’t working on him, because he couldn’t land the blow otherwise.

Or maybe he just wanted one moment in which to get back at Rokurou for making him feel so much that was forbidden.

One punch to the gut later, Eizen confirmed, “Well, that didn’t break it.”

“Next time you suspect an illusory arte,” Rokurou grunted, “test out your theory on yourself.”

As all but Velvet discussed the nature of the foul play, Eizen did in fact end up feeling a little bit guilty about physically harming Rokurou, so when it came time to make a plan of action, he looked the swordsman dead in the eye and said, “Come on. Help me look for the therion.”

Rokurou said “Sure” without missing a beat, indicating that the punch hadn’t even bothered him. What had Eizen expected, really? He was a warrior.

They advised Magilou, Eleanor, and Laphicet to keep an eye on Velvet, then split away from the others to begin their investigation.

After some casual snooping around, they came across the gate to the Tranquil Woods – and were immediately shooed away by a man they hadn’t even seen guarding it.

“You don’t want to go in there!” the man warned. “It’s full of horrible daemons!”

“That’s weird,” Rokurou stated. “Didn’t they say up in Taliesin that the area around here was mostly clear of daemons?”

“They said the same thing here, too.” Eizen stared the villager down, trying to pierce his glare through the silver bangs that shrouded one half of his face. “Which means someone’s lying.”

“There’s nothing worth seeing in these woods!” the man insisted. “What would a couple of young men like you even want there, anyway? It’s absolutely dull. Tell you what: you two should go to the corner store and pick up some tea to have a nice picnic outdoors. It’s such a lovely afternoon for a date!”

“A WHAT?” Rokurou nearly choked on his own saliva.

“Aren’t you two a couple?” the man mused. “You sure seem like one. You know, it’s funny. Three years ago, before the Opening, we weren’t too keen on relationships like yours. But after Velvet went missing for so long, we realized we didn’t care who married who, regardless of gender. We don’t need her to marry a man if she wants. She could even propose to Niko! We’re just glad to have her back. And now, we love and accept you two, too!”

“Thaaaat’s nice,” Rokurou said, deadpan. “But we’re not a couple.”

“What we WANT is to get to the shrine on the other end of those woods,” Eizen insisted.

“If you try and enter such a dangerous place,” the man warned, “I might just have to get violent.”

“And if we get violent right back?” Eizen posed.

The man’s voice became an unnatural hiss: “You’ll regret it.”

“ALL RIGHT!” Rokurou drew both blades, spinning them. “Bring it!”

“NO.” Eizen put a hard hand on Rokurou’s shoulder. “Not here and not now. We’re not causing a scene. We’ll just have to comply with the rules.”

Pouting, Rokurou sheathed his daggers.

“The Abbey will be pleased,” the man stated.

“The Abbey?” Eizen repeated. “What’s the Abbey got to do with any of this?”

“Why, they’re the ones who designated the Shrine of Tranquility off – “ The man froze for a good half-minute, then changed tune completely: “You two should go to the corner store and pick up some tea to have a nice picnic outdoors. It’s such a lovely afternoon for a date!”

“We’re done here.” Eizen turned to stalk away.

Rokurou gave the man his best death glare before he followed.

When he caught up to Eizen, he brought up, “So, uh…Velvet’s gay, right?”

“I don’t know,” Eizen replied. “Has she said?”

“To me, once, yeah. She didn’t really wanna dwell on it. But you heard the way she’s been talking about Niko all the way here. Also, I think she kinda has a thing for Eleanor, but she doesn’t wanna say it.”

“Huh.” Eizen thought it over. “I’d almost think she’d be closer to Magilou.”

“Could be. Magilou certainly finds a way to get on everyone’s mind. But I’m just thinking because of the big old exposition dump that guy gave us on how they view that stuff here. It didn’t sound natural. Kinda just proves your theory this isn’t real.”

“I’m guessing the original Aball was very traditional in its ideas of marriage,” Eizen stated. “If this is an illusion that caters specifically to what Velvet wants, then it would make the people she’s nostalgic for approve of the part of her she could never tell them about.”

“But you proved it definitely wasn’t an illusion when you decked me,” Rokurou stated.

Eizen tensed. “Sorry. That was…I could’ve handled that better.”

“Yeah, you sure could’ve,” Rokurou told him. All of a sudden, it came rolling out of him like a boulder down a hill: “Sometimes I don’t even know if you like me or not.”

“Of course I – “

“No,” Rokurou interrupted sharply. “Not like a friend, or a teammate. You know why that guy thought we were a couple? …Probably because he’s an illusion and also an idiot, but also, I’m pretty sure you like me like that. Except you are the hardest person I’ve ever had to read. I always have to feel out my opponents’ emotional state, and I’m not saying you’re an opponent, but that alone should make you easier to read, shouldn’t it? But one minute, you’re giving off these vibes like, I dunno, you really care about me and you kinda want something more than what we have, and then you go and sock me one to test out an illusory arte, or go chasing Zaveid across the fen, or pretend like you’ve got a girlfriend so I won’t say anything.”

Eizen was afraid, unsure of how to proceed. They were getting into waters he would rather not sail into.

Thinking of it that way, though…he was a sailor. He boasted of fearing no storm, no wave, no rocky shore. Taking a deep breath, he knew he had to apply that logic to more than just the Van Eltia.

“Why does it matter how I feel about you?” he asked.

Rokurou still didn’t feel like it was the right time. But it kept on not being the right time, and it was about to make him explode. “Because I love you, damn it. Or was that not obvious?”

Eizen bristled. So the worst had come to pass. “I…suspected, but I had hoped that you…didn’t.”

“So you’re not interested.” Rokurou sighed. “Okay. Good. That gets that off the table. Now I can stop thinking about it.”

Well, first of all, Eizen knew you couldn’t just halt your love for someone because they didn’t return it. But more importantly…it would have been so easy to pretend. To say he was uninterested, to let Rokurou take his feelings offstage and deal with them, to keep them both safe.

But that was dishonesty Rokurou didn’t deserve.

“Actually,” Eizen told him, “I do love you. I have for a while.”

“Wait, what?”

“But this can’t go anywhere!” Eizen insisted.

“Well, why the hell not?”

“Because you’ll get hurt if you get that close to me!” Eizen insisted. “Isn’t that why you were trying to break my Curse? So you could get closer to me without being harmed?”

“No!” Rokurou spat. “I did that for you! I wanted you to feel better once your Curse was gone! You think I don’t know what I’m signing up for? I’m tough! I can take it! You’ve seen how much shit I’ve handled!”

“What I’ve seen is you coming up against bad luck over and over,” Eizen told him. “Bad luck you wouldn’t have if you weren’t near me. I’m not going to lie: I’m glad we have to stay together to accomplish our goals. But after this, we need to go our separate ways for your own good.”

“I mean, I wasn’t thinking we’d settle down with a picket fence either, but you’re gonna just drop me like I’m nothing? For my own so-called good? I don’t accept that, Eizen. I’m not afraid of the Reaper’s Curse. I chose to walk with the Reaper. And I thought you thought I was a fine companion for you.”

“Do you have any idea of the horrible things that’ve happened to my sister because of me?” Eizen’s tone was rising in volume. “She’s almost died in horrible ways. One time, she caught on FIRE because of a kitchen accident. An accident I caused just by being next to her! And you think I’m going to let YOU – “

“People are staring.”

They were, so Eizen hushed himself: “I’m not going to get close to you BECAUSE I love you, Rokurou,” he hissed. “You…honestly deserve better than me.”

“But it doesn’t get better than – “ Rokurou shut his eyes. Shook his head. “Hell. We’re not gonna get anywhere this way. I may be stupid, but I’m not stupid enough to think I can or should wear you down. I’m just…disappointed. I thought we were…better than this.”

“Someday, when you find someone else,” Eizen told him, “you’ll be glad I didn’t tie you down.”

“Will I, though? And, more importantly: will you? Are you seriously okay just staying on your path like that without letting yourself have something you want?” Rokurou looked earnestly to Eizen. “I thought you were supposed to be in charge of steering your own ship.”

“SHUT UP!”

Now, that definitely got people to stare. Rokurou even flinched. Eizen looked at him in a state of mild shock; he hadn’t meant it to come out that loud or aggressive. He lowered his voice again: “We’ll finish the mission. And after this, I wanna keep anything between us strictly business until it’s all over.”

“Fine,” Rokurou resolved. “Not like my heart’s broken over it. I’m a yaksha, after all. I practically don’t have a heart to break.”

“And as the Reaper, I’m used to heartbreak by now. I’m numb to it.”

“So. The shrine?”

“The shrine.”

But neither could keep the tension out of his voice, even through their scheming to try and get around that well-guarded gate.


	11. Earthpulse

Had you asked Eizen what the worst thing was that could happen, he could’ve given you some incredibly creative answers. After all, he was the Reaper, stricken with the Reaper’s Curse. He had seen so many horrible things already that his vision of the future could have been incredibly bleak and gory to boot.

But never would he have guessed this.

They’d thought Laphi was alive, then thought he was dead again. Each time, they were only half right. He’d lived on in Innominat, claiming to have rendered Velvet’s raison d’etre invalid. Innominat himself had arrived to cast them all down into his own bowels, and he’d brought friends with him. Friends that included Shepherd Artorius and Shigure Rangetsu.

They’d fought, and they’d fallen. Eizen remembered the horrible sound of the orichalcum Stormquell shattering as Velvet cried liar. Then Innominat opened an immense maw beneath them all and sent them plunging, down into the Earthpulse, which was now part of the fifth Empyrean’s body.

And so Eizen found himself in the belly of the beast, all alone, with no idea of where his companions had been scattered, or if they were even alive.

His first instinct was to get up and run. He had to find them. He had to find someone. Because Velvet had almost broken down, Velvet was going to break, Velvet needed –

He couldn’t pretend it was all about Velvet. Not now. Rokurou had been bested by Shigure yet again. Eizen hadn’t seen the meat of it, but judging from the sounds he remembered, it hadn’t ended beautifully.

And now the swordsman’s name was echoing in his mind over and over as he raced through the Earthpulse: Rokurou, Rokurou, Rokurou…where are you?

Eizen had to fight back tears – no, he was the Reaper, he was used to this, he would not cry – at the thought that Rokurou had probably been sent down here fatally injured. By the time Eizen would find him – if he found him at all – he would have bled out. Damn Shigure. Eizen would have to take the mission of killing Shigure on himself, take revenge for the loss of his beloved.

What he wouldn’t give, the price he wouldn’t pay to see that idiot, that utter fool, that gorgeous rogue again, at least breathing.

“H-hey – EIZEN - !”

Heavy boots skidded to a halt. Eizen’s heart thudded. He’d heard it. Like the call of an Empyrean. His breathing was fast and heavy as he spun around, looking for the source. Where, where, where –

There.

Rokurou was sprawled out in a sitting position, back propped against a risen rock. Horrible red seeped from his sleeves and his pant legs. But as he turned his head up to look at Eizen, he proved that he was very much alive.

“Rokurou – no – “ Eizen skidded toward him, dropping to his knees. “No, no, no…”

His hands hit the stony ground as well, and he still wasn’t crying, but he was so close, breath hitching.

“Whoa,” Rokurou said all too casually. “Eizen. Calm down. You don’t have to be so dramatic.”

“I thought I lost you,” Eizen heaved shakily. “Shigure – “

“Please don’t remind me,” Rokurou choked. “I can’t think about that right now. But we’re both okay. Guessing the others are, too.”

“No.” Eizen rose back to his knees, giving Rokurou a look of pure desperation. Rokurou returned him an expression that was almost comically casual, especially given the gash running down his left cheek. “No, you’re NOT okay. Here – I have – I can do something – “

He’d been carrying more gels. He’d begun to do so once the danger had begun to ramp up and it became clear the whole world was after them. Battles had become tough enough to warrant them. He was surprised, frankly, that he still had so many left after the storming of Titania, but a handful of rainbow spheres came up into his fists.

He crushed them, making a multicolored goo. “Your robe,” he panted. “I need access to where you’re hurt.”

“Um.” Rokurou was gobsmacked. “Okay.”

So he peeled away his clothing from the waist up, revealing a chest usually deep-tan but today a tapestry of horrid red lines. “Yeah,” he coughed, “it hurts pretty bad.”

His façade fell for a minute. Eizen realized Rokurou was just as out of sorts as he was if not more. Just putting on his smile like he tried to do so often.

“This is the best I can do,” Eizen told him. “It’ll have to be enough.”

Tentatively, he reached out, flinched away, afraid of hurting Rokurou worse. Then plunged, gently gliding his hands and the mixed gel over every mark Shigure had left. Feeling over the taut hardness of the musculature in Rokurou’s abdomen, the surprising pillowy softness of his stomach.

“Do you have any wounds from the waist down?” Eizen asked.

“No.” Rokurou forced a laugh. “That’d be pretty awkward, wouldn’t it?”

“I knew,” Eizen muttered. “I knew something like this would happen.”

“There is NO WAY you would’ve guessed an Empyrean would make us his lunch.”

“But I should’ve,” Eizen admitted. “I knew better. All this time. Trying to push you away emotionally when I should’ve just cut our tie more permanently. Rokurou, if we leave the Earthpulse – or even if we don’t – one of us has to abandon the mission. Go after what we want without each other. It’s the only way – “

“STOP.”

Eizen flinched away, surprised to see Rokurou’s right eye glaring a bright crimson illumination at him.

“You keep saying it’s for my own good if I’m away from you!” Rokurou seethed. “You really think none of this would’ve happened if you weren’t here? Because I think that’s a load of shit! That was VELVET’S brother! And I was going after Shigure no matter what you did or said! If you weren’t there, we’d be in even worse shape, dammit! This all would’ve played out the EXACT same damn way, and this is literally the worst it can get! We’re in Hell, Eizen! We are actually in Hell! HOW COULD THIS BE WORSE? I THINK I CAN HANDLE ANYTHING YOUR CURSE CAN THROW AT ME!”

Eizen couldn’t find the words to reply.

The scarlet light faded. “No,” Rokurou said calmly. “There’s one thing worse than being in Hell. The thing I was afraid of when I first got sent down here and realized I was in too much pain to go looking for anyone. The only thing worse than being in Hell is being in Hell alone.”

“…I shouldn’t have left you,” Eizen realized.

“I chose,” Rokurou reminded him. “But even if I hadn’t, I’d have gone on by myself, and let’s face it: I’d probably be dead now. You know what happened to me just now? You came along with all your gross gels and started patching me up and giving me someone to talk to. Can’t say your Curse is broken, but that feels like good luck to me. Or maybe it’s just proof that you and I never needed luck.”

Still, words eluded Eizen. He looked for all the world like he was staring a ghost in the face, suddenly appearing younger than his years.

“You don’t have to love me,” Rokurou told him. “But don’t you dare run away from me for my own good. Because that’s not what happened with your sister, and you know it. You didn’t belong on that mountain. And you probably don’t belong with me in the end, either. Your place is on the Van Eltia. I finally got a read on you, and I know what’s going on. If you pick me, you’re not betraying your sister. She and I both get it. You need your freedom. So can you just pick what you want and go for it like you keep saying you do?”

“Rokurou,” Eizen breathed. “You’re…you’re right. I thought…all this time…it wouldn’t be fair, not to…not to her…”

“I get it.” Rokurou’s rage had now subsided completely. “Look, I don’t wanna fight with you. I just…I was afraid I’d bleed out alone down here, and I already got scared of losing you once. Heh…it’s always about me, isn’t it? I’m trying to act like this is about you having what you want, but I just want you around. I wouldn’t blame you if you – “

Eizen stopped his words with a sudden, fierce kiss pressed to his lips. Rokurou, taken aback at first, got used to it quickly, leaning forth into Eizen, tongue pressing past both sets of their lips. Eizen’s hands, wet with crushed gel, rose to cup Rokurou’s face, pressing the healing poultice to the cut Shigure had made there and caressing the daemonic half that always had intrigued Eizen so.

When their lips parted, Rokurou panted, “Your malevolence?”

“Forget it,” Eizen told him. “I’ll be fine. I just…really needed this…”

Their lips met again, and now Rokurou raised his arms, wrapping them around Eizen, one hand clutching at the back of his short hair. This time, when they broke apart, Eizen had a hunch, and he moved one of his hands to cover Rokurou’s mouth. Rokurou, for the first time, actually enjoyed ingesting a gel, licking the viscous substance off Eizen’s palm.

“This had better not be an illusion,” Eizen said breathily.

“I’m with you,” Rokurou muttered from beneath his hand.

Eizen looked him dead in the eyes, removing his hand. “I don’t know if I ever said it properly. I love you, Rokurou.”

“I love you too, Eizen.” Rokurou smiled, the expression on his face actually rather silly.

Eizen was silent a while before he corrected: “Ufemew Wexub.”

“Huh?”

“My true name,” Eizen said softly. “Ufemew Wexub. You should know. You deserve to. Just don’t tell any of the others. Not yet.”

“My lips are sealed,” Rokurou promised. “Though that’s kind of a mouthful, isn’t it? You mind if I shorten that to Uffie?”

“Don’t,” Eizen cautioned.

“Wex?”

“No.”

“Mew-Mew?”

“ROKUROU.”

Rokurou laughed. “I’m just kidding you. It’s a nice name. So I guess…I love you, Ufemew Wexub.”

They smiled at each other, feeling as though a great weight they’d been carrying was finally lifted.

“I think I can walk now,” Rokurou stated.

“Here.” Eizen put out a hand for him.

Once they were both on their feet and Rokurou had fastened his clothing back into place, Eizen cleared his throat; “I…was right. I thought you would look better than Shigure disrobed. You do. You have that much to hold over him.”

“Heh.” Rokurou smirked. “Wait until you see from the waist down.”

“Looking forward to it,” Eizen told him.

“Now, you’re definitely gorgeous,” Rokurou went on. “I’ve always liked my men tall, and you’re IMPRESSIVE. Also, anyone tell you how fitting it is that your eyes are the exact color of the sea? ‘Cause it is. Also also, stop me if this is too forward, but damn, I need to see you with your shirt off at least.”

“We can fix that once we get out of here,” Eizen told him. “Right now, I’m wondering about the logistics.”

“As in how we escape?”

“That,” Eizen confirmed, “and also if we’re going to tell the others about us or wait.”

“I say wait,” Rokurou volunteered. “Velvet’s not gonna be in the shape to hear about this. Let’s just tell her I bounced back from the whole Shigure thing and that’s it.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

As they proceeded to search for the rest of their traveling party, they ruminated upon the fact that it was worse to be in Hell alone than to be in Hell, but somehow, it seemed that with the correct person to accompany you, being in Hell could feel wonderful, if only for a moment.


	12. Aifread

They made it out of the Earthpulse. And out of the Calix, which was yet another extradimensional obstacle keeping them from returning home. Of all people, it was Zaveid who had rescued them, taking the child malak who had once accompanied Phi’s service under Lady Teresa under his wing.

On Hexen Island, the world tried even harder to stop them. The boy malak was barely named Silva when Innominat himself struck, turning him into a dragon and forcing the others’ hands to fight him.

Through it all, Melchior pursued, with the monster at his side he’d revealed had been the catalyst to cast Velvet’s dreams into reality at Aball. A tall, hulking beast, shaped somewhat like a man. What a strange-looking creature, Rokurou had thought; it must really be a worthy opponent to duel.

They’d fled to Port Cadnix, and Zaveid came with them to the inn that seemed almost suspiciously familiar. After fighting through so many layers of the worst of the worst, curling up in a bed in an inn they’d rented so many times before seemed like another function of Melchior’s dream arte giving them what they wanted to see. But it was most certainly real.

Eizen knew that because he was practically shaking with dread as opposed to the tranquility Melchior’s arte would bestow upon him.

They all split up. Velvet, Eleanor, and Magilou to a room; Rokurou had raised his eyebrows at Eizen in reference to their discussion as to which lady Velvet admired. Eizen rolled his own eyes, since choosing to be roommates was proof of nothing. Zaveid and Laphicet bunked together, which was done to pacify Zaveid losing Silva; also, as annoying as Zaveid could be, he was a beacon of positivity who was already making Laphicet smile.

That left Rokurou and Eizen to room together, separated from everyone else for the whole night, and Rokurou was already making filthy, filthy plans.

He draped himself across the bed, undoing his robe to expose more of the chest he now knew Eizen loved to look at. “Soooooo,” he said as seductively as he could manage, “how’s the old malevolence level?”

Eizen didn’t answer. In fact, Eizen wasn’t even looking at Rokurou’s come-hither demeanor. Instead, he was planted firmly in front of the small vanity on the other side of the room, not even able to meet the gaze of the mirror.

“What?” Rokurou asked. “Too soon? Too forward?”

“It’s not that,” Eizen told him. “I think my malevolence capacity is too low tonight.”

“Yeah, I get it. We’ve been through a LOT.”

Eizen’s grip clenched, as did his teeth. “It isn’t that,” he forced himself to say. “It’s…something else.”

“Oh?”

He didn’t want to say it. Because if he said it, that would mean it was true. Maybe if he lied about it, it would become just a fallacy, another illusory arte, an incorrect guess. But he couldn’t run from the truth for much longer. “Aifread,” he said, voice shaking. “Melchior’s malak. Or…daemon. It’s a daemon now. HE’S a daemon. He’s Aifread. Melchior must have exacerbated his malevolence until…there’s no going back now. I have to kill him, Rokurou. It’s what he’d want. It’s…time for me to let go of him. But I don’t know if I can.”

And then he fell silent.

The sound of rustling fabric. Then Rokurou’s voice close to his ear; “I know you’re not up for anything frisky, but if I just touched around where you’re covered, would that be okay, or is that pushing it?”

“I think it’d be fine,” Eizen said softly. “Why – “

Rokurou gently wrapped his arms around Eizen’s waist, clasping them over the malak’s stomach. He settled his chin on Eizen’s shoulder, careful not to make face-to-face contact.

Eizen let out a sigh. This by no means fixed it, but it felt like a wonderful balm.

“It sucks,” Rokurou said softly.

“It does,” Eizen agreed.

They remained in that position in silence. After some time, Eizen realized that Rokurou was instinctively swaying ever so slightly, taking Eizen with him. It felt just a little bit like the rocking of the Van Eltia. A little more right.

“I’m sorry,” Eizen said after a while. “I know you were set on becoming more intimate tonight, but I think one of us being inside the other would be too much.”

“Nah, it’s cool,” Rokurou told him. “But you owe me a serious rain check later.”

Eizen nodded.

“C’mon.” Rokurou wrapped an arm around Eizen’s upper arm. “You need to lay down for a bit.”

Eizen let Rokurou guide him to the bed, urge him to lay down on half, pull the comforter up over him. Rokurou then lay atop the blanket, keeping a solid layer of fabric between the two to bolster their clothing and prevent Eizen from contracting any undue malevolence. Then Rokurou reached over to gently stroke the lump that was Eizen beneath the blankets, the pressure of his hand gliding over Eizen’s arm, down his back, over and over.

Eizen was almost ashamed. He’d collapsed like a child, needing to be tucked into bed, unable to function because of the grief he liked to pretend he was so used to. But he also knew Rokurou didn’t judge.

“Thank you,” he muttered.

“Anytime,” the response came.

It took too long for Eizen to be able to drift to sleep. But Rokurou kept his vigil until he did, and once he was certain the Reaper had drifted off, he planted a pillow firmly between their bodies, just to make sure he couldn’t transfer any more negativity to Eizen. Then and only then did he roll over and drop into sleep.


	13. Meirchio

Eizen found Rokurou on the upper stratum of the snowy village, sitting outside the sanctuary next to two used cups of sake. It was amusing to Eizen that the yaksha had already defiled the sanctuary by turning it into a house of drink. Exactly what they both wanted.

Velvet was going around Meirchio checking in on the others. Eleanor was playing hide-and-seek with Kamoana out on the docks. Where Magilou and Laphicet had gotten off to, Eizen couldn’t even be sure. But he’d thought as long as he and Velvet had already exchanged their piece, he had nothing stopping him from being with the person he most wanted to be with.

“I appreciate this,” Eizen told Rokurou, gesturing toward the cups.

“Defiling the sanctuary, you mean?” Rokurou didn’t sound drunk at all, meaning he’d only been having a social cup. Why two, anyway?

“Is that one for me?” Eizen asked.

Rokurou’s face immediately fell. “No. It was Kurogane’s.”

“I thought everything he tried to drink went right through him.”

“Yeah, well, this time was special.” Rokurou let out a heavy sigh. “Last time we could even try to drink together.”

“And why’s that?”

Rokurou couldn’t bring himself to meet Eizen’s gaze. “Because he’s forging himself into Stormquell. The last one, hopefully. Presuming I don’t break him like I broke everything else he ever made.”

There was a shifting, and Eizen was seated on the sanctuary steps beside him. He remembered how not so long ago, Rokurou had comforted him through the knowledge that Aifread would have to die. And then Aifread did die, and Eizen went on. The world hadn’t ended after all.

Eizen supposed losing Kurogane was much like that for Rokurou. The duo may not have had the same history Eizen and Aifread had, but still, they had shared many laughs, many drinks, many in-depth discussions about blacksmithing. This time, Eizen was clear of most negativity, and so he reached over to gently place a hand on Rokurou’s shoulder, not caring whether or not he touched skin.

“I’m horrible, aren’t I?” Rokurou laughed. “I’d even throw away one of my best friends if it means getting closer to Shigure.”

“I’m sure it was his idea, though. At least in part.”

“Yeah, well, not as big of a part as you want it to be.” Rokurou let out a long sigh. “I don’t wanna throw a huge pity party or anything, but you sure you know what you’re getting into? All this time, we’ve been talking about how you’re the unsafe one. But me? I’m more daemon than Velvet’ll ever be. Told her as much, too.”

“I trust you,” Eizen told him. “You can betray as many people as you want, and I’ll still trust you not to turn on me.”

“Might not be smart.”

“Neither is walking with the Reaper. But you wanted me to respect your decision. So respect mine.”

Rokurou let out a long sigh. Thinking about the real reason he was going after Shigure. “You have no idea how far I’ll go.”

“And like I said: as long as it doesn’t involve me, I won’t care. You need to trust me more.”

He needed to tell Eizen. He needed to admit that he’d caused all of his problems himself by falsifying the accusations against Shigure. That he wasn’t the good and jolly person any of the others took him for.

But he couldn’t. Not then. Not there. It lodged like a too-big bit of lizard-tail steak in his throat.

“I’m sorry you had to lose Kurogane,” Eizen stated calmly. “I know you two were close.”

Rokurou knew he could no longer argue his lack of worth. “Thanks.”

“You won’t break him. Swords only break so many times in my hands. The two of you have both learned a lot since starting out. This is going to be the final Stormquell.”

“Yeah.” Rokurou found himself smiling.

“So.” Eizen used his hand to push Rokurou a little more upright via the shoulder it held, forcing the daemon to look at him at eye level. “The inn here boasts a hot spring. I do owe you a…rain check. I think I’ve kept you waiting long enough.”

Rokurou laughed; “You’re damn right.”

And so he let himself get lost in the pool of hot water, so strangely hot for this cold town, in the mingling of steam and well-built limbs and tousled blond hair and places far more private.

When they finally emerged from the chamber, more than satisfied, it seemed to have passed an eternity, separating the hour of Kurogane’s sacrifice from the hour when the news arrived that the legates were ready for the final clash.

Time for Shigure to, hopefully, die.


	14. Shigure

Shigure Rangetsu was dead.

By all legality, Rokurou was the new Shigure, but he refused the title. He’d found a different way to feel fulfilled, a different way to live. A way that was hampered when Eleanor started crying over Shigure, because she was such a big part of it.

Rokurou tried to explain it to her: “When we fought, when we both really fought, I got this sharp, vivid feeling that pierced straight to my core. When we were both throwing ourselves wholly into the battle, we wanted to keep on fighting forever, like an unquenchable thirst. That’s a feeling we only got from each other.”

Eizen had picked up on it as he had watched Rokurou and Shigure clash blades, a frenzy of glimmering metal and cries of strain and sweat dripping down skin from the intensity of the fight combined with the heat of Mount Killaraus’ volcanic cauldron trickling down into the cavern. He shivered to hear Rokurou describe it as a feeling he only got from Shigure. That was a part of Rokurou that Eizen had loved all the more, watching him in action, but was glad not to be on the receiving end of. He couldn’t imagine being invigorated by bloodlust for someone else, by the motivation to simply kill them. It was easier to understand Velvet’s desire for murder spurred by pure hatred.

But he didn’t need to understand Rokurou’s sentiment. He only needed to accept it. And it had been one hell of a show.

Eleanor put it into words: “I feel like I can understand it a little better now, but I’ll never comprehend it.”

“That’s for the better,” Rokurou said with a calm smile. “If you did, you’d end up like us.”

He meant it to everyone listening. To Magilou, to Velvet, to little Phi (they’d taken to thinking of him as that name, now, because the other Laphicet was running around), to Eizen. He wouldn’t wish a siblinghood like he had with Shigure on any of them. In the end, he’d enjoyed the fight, but it wasn’t something that could bring any of them joy. He needed only look at Velvet’s dismay toward Artorius to know that.

As Eleanor mused that Rokurou would meet his match one day in a swordsman who would rise to challenge him, Rokurou laughed. “Your positivity reminds me of him,” he said. “Now I’m suddenly craving a cup of yozakura anmitsu.”

Had he really said that? That he was reminded of Shigure and the memory brought him no pain? For a moment, the fear flashed in his heart; would Eleanor one day be the next swordswoman he would have to kill? No. That didn’t make any sense. She wielded a spear, not a sword, and she was raised by the Abbey’s teachings. Eleanor was something else. Maybe she was just all of the parts of Shigure that Rokurou wished he had to keep him company, without all the rest.

He promised to treat her to a bowl of cherry-blossom bean paste with black sesame ice cream. To his new, true sibling.

(Eizen, hearing the description, swallowed back a glob of saliva; yozakura anmitsu sounded absolutely delicious, and he would have to cajole Rokurou into taking him out for some later.)

But in order for this to happen, Eleanor would have to come back alive, and he made her promise. Not to die for him, the way Shigure had needed to. He wanted, needed her alive. He’d never really understood Velvet’s devotion to avenging Laphi until now, right now, with her.

But then Phi piped up: “Rokurou…you said something to him at the end…”

“To Shigure?” Rokurou replied.

“Yeah,” Laphicet clarified. “Maybe it’s not my place to ask, but…”

“I don’t mind.” Rokurou sighed. “It was just something that happened long ago.”

He’d said he didn’t mind. Yet it took him a moment of silence to work up the words. “The story about Shigure plotting to overthrow our lord…that was a lie,” he admitted. Finally, after all these years. About time. He was almost starting to believe that lie himself, and he was the one who’d told it. “A lie that I spread.”

He could feel the disappointment radiating from Phi. It wasn’t difficult to perceive. Eleanor and Velvet were taken aback as well. Magilou simply looked amused, like this was the latest gossip.

And he couldn’t read Eizen’s blank expression at all.

“But why…?” Phi choked.

“I wanted a just cause to strike him down,” Rokurou said, looking straight ahead, not at any of the others. “Stormhowl, Shigure’s name, the leadership of the clan…I used to want all of that for myself.”

“Do you regret it?” Phi asked.

“Not at all,” Rokurou replied, his characteristic grin returning. “Besides, Shigure figured it out a long time ago. But really, I don’t know what made me think I had the strength to defeat him back then.”

“He was truly strong,” Phi agreed.

“Of course he was,” Rokurou affirmed. “He was the head of the Rangetsu family: the strongest warriors in all the land.”

“Rokurou?” Phi asked the question on everyone’s mind. “Does this make you head of the clan now?”

“No,” Rokurou replied. “I’m a daemon. And more importantly…” He broke into a wide smile. “All I ever wanted was to beat my brother. That’s enough for me.”

They pressed onward. Morgrim wanted to remain where Stormhowl was plunged into the stone, mourning the exorcist she’d once bound. Up ahead, Melchior taunted them, revealing long-buried secrets about Magilou’s past, and then they were after him, headed up through the scorzing-freeching temperatures of the cauldron.

Velvet and Eleanor had gathered around Magilou, sympathetic to what they’d just learned of her, and Phi trailed behind. But Rokurou caught up to Eizen, falling in step behind him.

“Sooooooo,” he said with a grin. “Hate me yet?”

“No,” Eizen replied gruffly. “Not at all. Is that what this was about, what you said at the sanctuary in Meirchio?”

“Kinda. Yeah. Actually, it was.”

“You could’ve told me,” Eizen informed him. “I’m not angry that you didn’t. But I would’ve understood. When I saw you two clash…it all made sense to me. Your entire lives revolved around the need to best each other. Putting that together with what I know about the Rangetsu clan and I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same if I were born into those circumstances. So, no. I’m not angry. And I don’t think this means you’d throw me aside or betray me. Quite the opposite, in fact.”

“Huh?”

“When you started that rumor,” Eizen told him, “you wanted a title and a weapon that weren’t meant for you. They wouldn’t have made you happy. But because of everything you went through, you figured out how to take control of your own life. I understand now why my creed was so inspiring to you. And now, you’re walking your own path. You could be the next Shigure, but you choose not to be.”

“I told you. I’m a daemon.”

“And you could make it so that didn’t matter, if you really wanted,” Eizen reminded him. “If you really want the position, I’m not going to stop you. But I think you found what you really wanted. And…” He smiled softly. “I couldn’t be happier that you did, in the end.”

“Heh.” Rokurou nudged Eizen’s upper arm with his elbow. “Means a lot.”

“Besides,” Eizen stated. “That was a great fight.”

“It was indeed,” Rokurou agreed. “The greatest sort of brotherly quarrel.”

“I think you’ve earned one of these.” Eizen passed over a sugary puff pastry rolled into curls.

Down in the colder part of the mountain, he’d told them all why he made palmiers. Because Edna loved them so much. And he still made them, now for a different sort of family. Strange to think how he and Rokurou had stumbled into the kin they’d needed by accident. The ones Eizen couldn’t hurt; the ones that couldn’t drive Rokurou to a life-or-death rivalry.

Rokurou took one bite. Swallowed it. Eizen’s baking skills were even more delicious than ever, or maybe it was the heat of the victory, or the thrill of the upcoming duel against Lord Melchior. He took a second bite. Tapped Eizen on the shoulder.

Eizen looked to Rokurou; “What – “

Rokurou pressed his lips to Eizen’s, and when Eizen’s lips instinctively parted, he used his tongue to pass the pastry scrap back to its maker.

At first, it felt gross, Eizen thought, and he was about ready to smack Rokurou for that little trick. Except it still tasted delicious after being soaked in Rokurou’s spit, and really, when was the last time Eizen had eaten one of these for himself?

“Oh, what SCANDAL! What a turn of events!”

Magilou’s proclamation caused both of them to turn back to look at her smirk – and the gobsmacked expressions on Velvet, Eleanor, and Phi.

“What?” Eizen asked. “Is there a problem?”

“Oh…no.” Eleanor blushed, putting her hands behind her back. “I’m happy for you two.”

“Finally,” Velvet grunted.

“You guys coulda told us!” Phi realized. “How long has this been going on?”

“That’s our little secret.” Rokurou winked. “Anyway, Velvet. Your turn. When are you gonna do something about Eleanor?”

Velvet was taken aback, but Eleanor outright gasped.

“Rokurou,” Velvet growled. “It’s not like – “

“IT’S NOT LIKE THAT!” Eleanor squeaked, protesting a bit too much.

“I thought so,” Eizen stated. “We should’ve put money on it, Rokurou. It’s all right, Velvet. You can admit your heart really beats for Magilou.”

“EIZEN!” Velvet snapped.

“Oh, little old me?” Magilou pretended to fan herself with a hand. “I’m touched! And such a beautiful rogue, too!”

“So you haven’t confessed to either of them?” Rokurou asked. “You have to like one of them, don’t you?”

“Stop talking,” Velvet threatened. “NOW.”

“Or is this a love triangle situation where you can’t decide who to pick?” Rokurou asked mischievously.

“If they’re all in agreement, then she wouldn’t even have to pick,” Eizen stated. “It’s a situation I’ve seen happen sometimes.”

They realized they might’ve pushed it too far when Velvet’s hand ballooned out red; “I’m…going to KILL BOTH OF YOU!”

Eizen, in a panic, grasped Rokurou’s hand and broke into a run; Rokurou let himself be led, laughing uproariously as Velvet rushed them like a hawk divebombing a pair of rabbits.

“Um…” Eleanor blushed. “If…if you and Velvet are happy together, then I won’t stand in your way.”

“Hypothetically,” Magilou asked, “if she did choose both of us, would that bother you? I know I wouldn’t really care.”

“Well…um…actually…” Eleanor’s blush pinkened. “I was really happy seeing the two of you work together to play villain to evacuate Meirchio. Not that I approve of playing villain! But you just had such a natural chemistry that I got…happy instead of jealous. So maybe I wouldn’t mind. It’s up to Velvet, though - !”

“Whatever her decision,” Magilou sighed, “she’d better make it soon. I’m not sure how much she’s got left in her.”

Eleanor sighed. “I’m afraid of the same thing. Can’t we do something to save her?”

“A piece of gald for everyone who’d ever posed that question about someone else important would buy a palace.”

“Are you saying - !”

“I’m saying we need to appreciate the time we have,” Magilou stated. “Especially after the old man croaks and the Empyreans stop being such sleepyheads.”

“Right. You’re right.”

They and Phi finally caught up to the Cauldron’s summit, where Velvet had Rokurou pinned down and was pinching his ear hard with her non-daemon hand to indicate he had never been in any danger, all while Eizen looked on and pretended to be offended.


	15. Comedy

There was time to spend together, traveling the world after the Empyreans’ awakening but before hunting down Innominat. They had said their goal was to gather information: to know as much as they could about Artorius before going in fully prepared.

Though Magilou had an agenda on the side, which was to further the comedy act she’d planned for Magilou’s Menagerie by staging shows in Yseult and Stonebury. And the others decided they might as well play along. After all, it got them where the gossip was.

Yseult first. Rokurou volunteered. “Believe it or not, I’ve always been interested in theater,” he admitted. “I thought it would be good for building courage.”

Eizen was all the more proud of him for casting off the chains of the Shigure title, because he knew that before beating the last Shigure, Rokurou could never have stepped out into a discipline like this.

He was more than enthusiastic. He was ecstatic. And when he and Magilou stepped out onto the stage of the Yseult tavern, then Eizen, Velvet, Eleanor, and Phi, seated at the closest table to the stage, had no idea what to expect.

“The weather’s so nice in Yseult, isn’t it?” Magilou said, obviously setting up for a joke. “Especially the sea breeze. Speaking of which – “

“Sea breezes are bad for swords!” Rokurou broke in. “If you don’t keep ‘em polished, the salt will rust ‘em!”

“Oh, no,” Velvet groaned, rolling her eyes.

“This is bad, isn’t it?” Phi asked.

“Eizen?” Eleanor looked to the large malak. “Are…are you okay?”

Eizen was biting his lip. Hard, from the looks of it. Was he that disappointed in his boyfriend’s lack of comedic knowhow?

The answer came when Magilou tried to salvage the performance: “Ahh, sashimi, fresh boiled fish on the shore, seafood bowls…so many kinds look so delicious, but – “

“And fillets, too!” Rokurou added. “You can’t forget those! It takes true mastery to be able to use a blade so finely.”

Eizen’s mouth twitched, and he let out an unmistakable snort. That was when the others at the table realized: he was actually trying his hardest not to break down laughing on the spot.

Magilou was trying to bring it back to her joke about weird-looking seafood: “You’ve got octopuses, you’ve got swordfish, you’ve got – “

“SWORDFISH!” Rokurou cried gleefully.

The crowd laughed, figuring they were catching onto the joke – that Rokurou, the dumb character, had been assigned to interrupt Magilou’s knowledgeable speeches and frustrate her. Having no idea that he was, in fact, just that stupid.

And as Rokurou insisted how much he wanted to actually duel a swordfish, Eizen’s shoulders were heaving, his hands over his mouth to suppress his chortling.

It was just that Rokurou was so adorable when he was being an idiot. And doubly so when he was being an idiot by talking about what he loved best: swords. The more Rokurou interrupted and the less he got the point, the more Eizen felt himself falling for the swordsman all over again.

Magilou hissed something to Rokurou, and he explained, loudly enough for the audience to hear, “No, no, no. I was just making a gag about how I’m a swordsman, so a swordfish would be like my rival, you get it?”

No. Eizen couldn’t do this. He was too cute.

He heard Magilou definitely hiss “Shut up” and Rokurou sputter “O…okay,” and that cut Eizen’s humor streak off quickly. He was actually rather angry at Magilou. This was one of Rokurou’s hidden dreams, and there she was making him feel bad about it. Maybe Eizen owed her a cuff on the head later.

“I love pufferfish,” Magilou began to set up, “and they’re really weird, round-shaped – “

“Speaking of round animals!” Rokurou leaned forward so excitedly that a stray elbow knocked Magilou right to the floor. “Okay, I once met this round-looking guy named ‘Arma Dylan’!”

Eizen lost it. He guffawed, falling onto the tabletop to pound it with his fist.

“I’ve never seen him do that before,” Phi whispered to Velvet.

“Are we sure that’s the real Eizen?” Velvet asked Eleanor.

After the show, the reviews poured in. Mostly bad ones. But some people had been entertained by the interruption gag. Magilou, however, had rated Rokurou a nightmare to work with.

“Aww, is that true?” Rokurou asked in the Yseult plaza.

“YES!” Magilou shrieked. “YOU SHOULD NEVER, EVER, EVER SET FOOT ON A STAGE AGAIN!”

“Oh, really?” Eizen growled, looping an arm around Rokurou’s shoulders and pulling him close. “Because I think he was perfect. In fact, I’d pay good gald to see him as a solo act.”

“YOU’RE JUST SAYING THAT BECAUSE YOU’RE HIS BOYFRIEND!” Magilou screeched.

And then the whole topic was derailed when Eleanor heard something about a talking pengyon.

* * *

But in Stonebury, only one remained, and Eizen stood up to take his hit.

“I’m going to be honest,” Magilou said before the show began. “I think you’ll be the worst of any of them.”

“You just underestimate me,” Eizen argued. “I have my own sense of humor. Just act like we’re both aboard the Van Eltia.”

“I already have a bad feeling about this,” Magilou groaned. “All right. You can play the strong, forceful type and I’ll be the dumb, slow one who – “

When Eizen said very firmly, “NO. I wanna play the dumb character,” Rokurou knew this was going to be a treat.

That show was held outdoors, in the summer sun, as villagers gathered around the clearing to see the pair of performers. This time, Velvet, Phi, Eleanor, and Rokurou had to edge in among a standing-room-only crowd.

“Hi there!” Magilou greeted. “We’re your friendly comedy duo: Death by Laughter!”

The booming “MAGIKAZAM!” Eizen let out was so uncharacteristic of him that Rokurou was already losing it by that single word.

But then Eizen began to deliver a monologue, an absolute monologue, of the history of comedic archetypes, and what had happened to Eizen in Yseult was now happening to Rokurou in Stonebury: the swordsman was falling in love with his partner all over again.

And now he was getting into a heated argument onstage with Magilou about the importance of said history, and only Eizen would ever do that, and Rokurou’s heart could barely stand it.

“Comedy is always evolving!” Magilou insisted. “It has to!”

“Tch…” Eizen clicked. “You must be some new-wave type, then.”

“DID YOU JUST CLICK YOUR TONGUE AT ME?” Magilou growled.

“No,” Eizen stated flatly.

So the two of them stood there in complete silence, and Magilou wondered how she could possibly turn this back around when she heard another “Tch” come from Eizen.

That was the thing about him, Rokurou thought as he stomped his foot into the dirt. Eizen seemed to be intimidating, serious, brooding. But at his core –

“I was thinking of maybe…imitating a clock. Tch! Tch! Tch! Tch!”  
Eizen was a dork.

As Magilou screamed, “I CAN’T TAKE THIS ANYMORE! YOU’RE IMPOSSIBLE!”, Eizen gave a downright evil grin the likes of which Rokurou had never seen before on him.

Rokurou was so proud of him.

“Your partner was so intimidating, I couldn’t laugh,” the promoter said once the show had ended.

“Huh?” Eizen was taken aback.

Magilou sighed; “Can’t say I’m surprised.”

“Now, wait a minute!” Rokurou slid in behind Eizen. “This guy? Intimidating? Did you really just call this big fluffy puppy too scary to laugh at?” He slipped his arms around Eizen’s waist, correctly figuring the high of the stage had kept him able to take on a light malevolence capacity.

“Rokurou…” Eizen flushed.

“He’s sooooooo cute!” Rokurou peeped over Eizen’s shoulder. “Look, how can you not love this face?”

Inspired, Eizen flashed his best smile at the promoter – which happened to be the sinister-looking leer from earlier.

“To each their own!” the promoter cried in disgust.

They regrouped only for Magilou to inform everyone that she had chosen Bienfu as her partner, which everyone now suspected she had wanted to do from the start, and they accused her of setting up all the other performances in order to get that juicy punchline. Which she didn’t exactly deny.

But none of them guessed what she had earned getting to put on a show, one by one, with each of her new friends.


	16. Mother

“I see…well done, Rokurou…”

A slash of the sword. The dragon fell. Dissipated into the air.

“Did she just say…?” Phi asked.

“Yeah,” Rokurou confirmed. “This dragon swordsman was a previous Shigure…and my mother.”

Most of them gasped, and even Eizen flinched. This came as a surprise. And yet not an unexplainable one. “I see,” he said. “So the previous Shigure was a woman.”

“You knowingly killed your own mother?” Eleanor was on the verge of sobbing. “WHY?”

Rokurou gave her a stern look, one that for once betrayed the pain he carried with him all the way from his childhood: “That’s just how it goes in my clan.” He paused to take a breath before continuing, picking his words with deliberation: “My mother slew my grandfather to take the name ‘Shigure,’ and my brother did the same to her. It’s an endless cycle.”

Eleanor took an instinctive step back, and Rokurou wondered when she was ever going to understand, that was how he’d been raised, that was how they’d worked, that was what he was never going to do to her now that he’d sworn to use his blade to defend her –

“But she should be dead,” Velvet pointed out. “How did she become a daemon?”

“No,” Eizen realized. “This was a malak. One that was halfway to becoming a dragon, by the looks of it.”

“So, what, then, she was reincarnated as a malak?” Magilou now seemed to ask more questions out of earnest as opposed to asking to stir up trouble. “But she still got to keep her human memories somehow…” She folded her arms. “It all seems a little too convenient, doesn’t it?”

“Maybe her feelings were just that strong,” Velvet mused. “Or perhaps…”

“Does it really matter?” Rokurou put his hands on his hips, his characteristic smile washed away. “She fought like a real member of the Rangetsu clan would. And that sword belonged to my mother.”

When Phi asked, “Do you think Tabatha knew about this?”, they all realized their next stop needed to be Loegres again to ask her what she thought she was doing by sending them after this Shigure.

On the way down Danann Highway, Eizen walked beside Rokurou, whose gait was stiff, face set in moroseness. Eizen knew Rokurou didn’t want pity or sympathy. He saw this as a deed that needed to be done, and he’d done it. But at the same time, Eizen also knew Rokurou needed something to make up for the way he was feeling, an emotion so strong he couldn’t mask it with a smile.

And he had no idea what that could be. At first.

* * *

Tabatha was cool as ice when Velvet accused, “So you knew who the dragon swordsman really was.”

“Did you use us for your personal revenge?” Eizen growled. After all, if this kill, which meant so much to Rokurou, was meant as anything but Rokurou’s own fight –

“No,” Tabatha reassured. “That loss we suffered those twenty-odd years ago was entirely on us Bloodwings. Hell, that Shigure was so good, she managed to fight our people off while holding her newborn with one hand!”

“Newborn?” Phi realized. “Would that have been Rokurou?”

Tabatha nodded. “I always thought the Rangetsu weren’t ones for being sentimental. I was so surprised, I asked her why she did it. She had blood all over her face, but she looked at me with this very soft smile and said, ‘This precious child has the potential to cut me down and go on to be the strongest swordsman of all. It’s my duty to protect him.”

Rokurou was still stone-faced. “I see,” he replied evenly. “The name will be passed down no longer, but at least that wish, I could fulfill.” He unfolded his arms, relaxing his body, his smile beginning to return in earnest. “I owe you one, Tabatha.”

“And I you,” Tabatha replied. “That’s one longstanding worry that I can now let go.”

So there was something in it for Tabatha after all, Eizen thought. He stood apart from the others by a good distance, leaning back against a wine shelf and thinking. About the Rangetsu name, about the Shigure title, about mothers and their children.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this, Rokurou?” Eleanor asked with concern.

His frown returned. He reached back to scratch beneath his hair nervously. “The Shigure…my mother…was a strict person. When I was a kid, she was always scolding me for something. But for the very first time in my life, she actually praised me. That…” And once more, he smiled. “Felt really good to hear.”

“Rokurou…” Eleanor said softly.

And Eizen said nothing, for Eizen didn’t have the words. Like when Rokurou had drunk himself into a stupor back at Titania. But he was formulating a plan of action.

“And I also learned why Shigure hadn’t been able to carry out his mission,” Rokurou admitted. “It’s not that he couldn’t kill her. He just chose not to. To take the life of one’s own parent…that is an experience you don’t need to have more than once.”

“Even as an exorcist and a daemon,” Eleanor whispered, and Rokurou realized she finally understood.

“Yeah. At least that’s what I think.”

“Well.” Velvet shrugged. “With that done…since we’re here in Loegres, we should probably make a supply run.”

“Right!” Rokurou nodded. “I’ve got, like, forty cheap blades I need to hawk for gald.”

“I wanna try some new recipes!” Phi chirped. “But I’m gonna need some rare spices first!”

“My boots have holes in them from all this walking,” Eleanor sighed.

“I’m thinking of shelling out for that Character Cards Deluxe Pack,” Magilou mused. “I’ll beat you at that game yet, Eizen, even if I have to stack the deck with ultra-powerful cards to do so! …Uhm, Eizen?”

The pirate was briskly on his way out of the bar without a word.

Rokurou sucked air in through his clenched teeth; “Dammit.”

He searched every alley of Loegres until he found Eizen at the weapons shop counter. “EIZEN!” he yelled, barreling toward him.

Eizen turned back to face Rokurou, expression blank. Unreadable. Figures. Rokurou skidded to a halt before him.

“You’re angry,” Rokurou identified.

“Damn right,” Eizen growled.

“I thought you knew how this worked,” Rokurou argued.

“That doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Eizen snapped.

“Then you should’ve said something back at the Throne.”

“I almost did. I wanted to.”

“I can’t believe this,” Rokurou snapped. “You tell me you get it after Shigure, you tell me you would’ve done the same thing, and now you suddenly have more of a moral backbone than Eleanor. What do you think I should’ve done? Let her become a – “ 

“Rokurou.” Eizen’s eyes were wide. “You think I’m angry at you? For killing your mother?”

Rokurou looked back, dumbfounded. “Is that not what we’re talking about?”

“No.” Eizen sighed. “I’m angry at Shigure. The malak you slew.”

“…Why?”

“You’re telling me your whole entire life, while she was expecting you to grow up to surpass her,” Eizen snarled, “she never once told you of your own worth? Not until she died, and not even the first time she died at that?” His tone rose in intensity. “How could she expect you to live up to your full potential if she kept putting you down? And more importantly, how could she just ignore how extraordinary you are? Do you KNOW how extraordinary you are, Rokurou? How many people have told you that?” His arms were flailing angrily. “You deserved so much better, and you got NOTHING for all those years! How can you expect me to just hear that and not be angry? I LOVE you, Rokurou, and you need to know that you’re EXTRAORDINARY! Your mother was right to think you would be the one to best her from the very start, but she was damn wrong to keep that knowledge from you!”

He forced himself to calm down, breathing deeply. “I’m sorry,” he grunted. “I just…I’ve been trying to figure out what to say since the Throne, and – “

“Malevolence level?”

“Could be worse.”

Rokurou threw his arms around Eizen, nuzzling into his chest. Eizen almost thought he heard a hitch in Rokurou’s breath, as though the swordsman were going to cry. He hadn’t even done that in the Earthpulse.

“I’m fine,” Rokurou choked. “I swear I’m fine. That was just…not what I was expecting.”

He turned his face upward for a kiss, and got three of them in a row, little smacks separating each.

But as Rokurou pulled away the last time, still embracing Eizen, he explained: “But that’s just how Rangetsus love. I know my mother loved me, now, because that’s how we express it. …How we used to, anyway. Now that the Shigures have ended, I’m changing that, right now, because you deserve better, too.” His brow furrowed. “I love you, Eizen. Because you’re great. And you don’t need to best me in a fight to prove that. Anytime you need to hear it from me, you just ask, and I’ll tell it to you.”

“Rokurou.” Eizen smiled softly, warmly. “This is exactly what I mean.”

They shared one more kiss, though this one was the combined length of the previous three.

“Ahem.” The vendor cleared his throat. “Your request, sir.”

“Ah.” Eizen struggled out of Rokurou’s grip, turning back to him. “Thank you.” He lay down several coins, then came away with a shining object in his grip. He then turned to Rokurou, offering it forth on his palm. “Here. It’s for you.”

“What the – “ Rokurou did a double take.

It was a shimmering metal charm, hammered into the shape of a dragon wrapped around a sword.

“I hope I don’t have to explain the symbolism,” Eizen said dryly.

“Is this…?” Rokurou looked up at Eizen, dumbfounded.

“It’s a talisman,” Eizen told him. “I know you like to wear one to increase your arte capability. I’ve been saving some choice materials for a while now, and I realized this was the time to use them. I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m not that great with words. After what you’ve gone through today…”

“I’m gonna wear it forever.” Rokurou reached for it, but Eizen drew it back.

“No,” Eizen corrected. “Let me…” He flushed. “Let me put it on you.”

The charm was looped with a chain to be worn as a pendant, but was also forged in such a way that it could sit discreetly in a pocket or even be pinned as a brooch. Eizen gently, reverently slipped the loop over Rokurou’s head, settling it around his neck, teasing out that shaggy dark hair to lie naturally over it.

“You realized what you just did, right?” Rokurou asked.

“I gave you a gift,” Eizen stated.

“No.” Rokurou was smirking mischievously. “I’m in your debt now, which means I have to repay you.”

“Well, I suppose I can’t stop you.” Eizen smiled back. “I look forward to seeing how you do.”


	17. Dragon

Once upon a time, when Rokurou was still Rokurou but Shigure was Ichirou and their mother was actually Shigure, the youngest warrior of the family, only six years old to match his place in the birth order, came stumbling into the kitchen where his mother was chopping vegetables with the same precision she used to cleave her foes.

“Mommmmyyyyy!” the tiny Rokurou wailed. “Mommy, Mommy – “

Shigure stabbed the blade down into the wooden cutting board to keep it aside. “Why are you crying?” she asked sternly.

Rokurou was wiping the tears off his eyes with the back of his too-long sleeve. “I was running too fast and I tripped and – “

“And you hurt yourself.” Shigure knelt to look into her son’s eyes with scorn. “You brought this upon yourself, and you expect others to feel pity for you when you cry?”

“Nnnnnoooooo!” Rokurou sobbed. “It hurts and I’m bleeding!”

“Then clean it off and wrap it the way I taught you,” Shigure ordered. With a sigh; “It’s not a lost cause yet, Rokurou. For a minute, when you ran in here, I was afraid you’d gotten hurt by losing a fight to someone else.”

“Mommy, can you help me?”

“No.” Shigure rose to wrench the knife out of the cutting board. “I have to prepare our dinner. Your wound is your fault and your responsibility. You need to take responsibility for your actions, Rokurou. It’s the only way you’ll ever become the swordsman who can cut me down.” She paused, then added, “Also, you’ll need to stop crying.”

“But it’s happening on its own!” Rokurou protested.

“Find a reason to smile,” Shigure recommended, knife hitting the board rapidly as a pepper fell to bits. “I can’t do that for you. You need to learn how to win your own fights.”

Rokurou sniffled. “Okay, Mommy.”

Maybe, just maybe, that was the reason he smiled so casually in the face of despair.

* * *

“WHY WON’T YOU LET ME DO IT?”

Pillow and bedding had been hurled across the Loegres inn room in anger. Eizen stood still as a stone statue, letting the storm of Rokurou’s anger lash against him, unable to weather him. Rokurou’s daemon eye shone brilliantly blood-red, unable to be hidden by his hair curtain anymore.

“YOU KNEW I WOULD WANT TO BE THE ONE!” Rokurou yelled. “WHY DID YOU CHOOSE HIM INSTEAD?”

Eizen just let out a long, low sigh.

It had been a long day. They’d finally convinced Zaveid that the dragon Theodora needed to be slain. Theodora, who Zaveid had hoped would return to him one day as a malak. But such a fate was never in the cards for a dragon. It was a mercy, just as it had been for the elder Shigure.

But in Theodora’s collapse, she’d expelled far too much malevolence, and now Eizen was corrupted. He felt certain, now, he would one day become a dragon. And the only reason Rokurou hadn’t immediately rushed to him when he’d become engulfed was because he knew that a daemon’s touch might well make the process instantaneous.

Phi had saved him, but for how long, no one knew. Maybe a week. Maybe a millennium. The Silver Flames of Purification burned in Eizen’s heart and it was difficult to say when they would extinguish. So Eizen had made a pact with Zaveid, making the wind malak swear to kill him when all was said and done and he’d gone too feral to come back.

Sealing the deal by exchanging true names with him.

“WHY WOULD YOU TELL HIM YOUR NAME?” Rokurou raged. “DO YOU LOVE HIM? IS THAT IT? WHAT HAPPENED THOSE TIMES YOU CHASED AFTER HIM?”

“It’s not like that,” Eizen said calmly. “I told everyone my name in that moment. You already knew it. It was time they all did.”

“BUT WHY HIM?” Rokurou seethed. He’d thrown everything soft and movable in the room, but hadn’t made a move even close to harming Eizen himself. “YOU WOULD BE THE OPPONENT I NEEDED! YOU WOULD NEED MY HAND TO END YOUR PAIN! YOU KNEW, WHILE YOU WERE MAKING HIM SWEAR TO DO YOU IN, THAT I WANTED TO BE THE ONE TO SEE YOU OFF!”

“Is that really what you wanted?” Eizen’s tone was now mounting in tone. “Is it REALLY? Think about it, Rokurou! You already have Shigure’s blood on your hands as well as your mother’s! Weren’t you the one who said killing a parent wasn’t something anyone should have to go through more than once? What about killing a parent, a brother, AND a lover? Is THAT what you want?”

“What does that have to do with ANYTHING?” Rokurou seethed. “It’s gonna happen, and you’re gonna need someone to take you down, and – “

“AND I ASKED ZAVEID SO YOU WOULDN’T HAVE TO!” Eizen roared.

Rokurou flinched back, flummoxed.

“I know you think you want to bring me down,” Eizen told him. “That it’d be best for both of us. But you already have so many dead loved ones to your name. I want that to stop. I don’t want you to NEED to put any more of us down, for any reason. If you want that kill, then beat Zaveid to it. But you have to know what you’re getting into. You have to kill me. Are you ready for all that entails?”

“I…” Rokurou sputtered, voice cracking hoarsely. His eye flickered out like a lamp doused.

“Well?” Eizen pressed, leaning in toward Rokurou.

Rokurou’s breath caught in his throat. He made a choked, whining noise. “I can’t even touch you,” he eked out, “or you’ll – “

“It’s exactly as risky as it was before,” Eizen told him. “The new malevolence is more of a time bomb than anything else. You can’t make it worse. At least not at this stage. In fact, Laphicet’s purification has my soul in a temporarily invincible state from all malevolence. So if you’ve been holding back from striking me directly because you don’t want to turn me into a dragon, then don’t let that stop you.”

“No…” Rokurou croaked.

He took two great strides to close the distance between himself and Eizen, and at first, Eizen wasn’t sure that Rokurou wasn’t going to actually deal him a blow out of anger. But instead, Rokurou wrapped his arms around Eizen’s waist, sinking to his knees, pressing his head against Eizen’s stomach.

And he began to cry. For the first time in years.

“It’s not fair,” Rokurou sobbed. “This shouldn’t be happening. Not to you. You were supposed to live your life on your terms, not have this ending waiting for you.”

“Ah – “ Eizen was taken aback at first, unsure what to say. Then, softly: “I’m ready.”

“But I’m not!” Rokurou’s tears flowed freely. “I’m not ready, Ufemew. Even if we lived a world apart, I’d still know you were out there, but if you turn before I die…” His voice tapered to a whisper. “Please don’t leave me yet, Ufemew.”

“I…can’t promise that,” Eizen sighed.

Rokurou had run out of words, so Eizen used a strong hand to smooth down his hair, over and over again. “I don’t want to leave you, either,” he whispered. “I’ll fight it as long as I can. If it happens, then we both have to accept it. But…”

He didn’t know what came after that “But.” His fate was inevitable, no matter how sad that made anyone. Himself, Edna, Rokurou.

“But I love you now,” he whispered. “This is the first time I’ve ever seen you cry…and I wanted to spare you those tears.” A sigh of regret. “Maybe I should’ve let you – “

“No,” Rokurou insisted. “You were right, you were right…I thought if I was the one to kill you, then it’d mean I wasn’t sad, that I was strong enough to take it. I have to…find something to smile about…”

“Sometimes, there isn’t anything,” Eizen told him. “Except the hope that you’ll go on after the tragedy has ended.”

“I shouldn’t be crying – “

“Was that something else your mother told you?” Eizen guessed. He felt the pressure of a light nod against his stomach. “Rokurou. You need to catch up on your lost tears. Velvet would tell you it’s part of being alive, after all.”

He shifted, indicating he wished to kneel, and Rokurou allowed him to. Then he settled his strong embrace around Rokurou.

“As long as I can,” Eizen whispered into his ear. “I promise.” A hand still stroking that long, dark hair.

And Rokurou cried decades’ worth of tears.

* * *

“You guys think they’re done fighting?” Phi asked from his bed.

Before, whenever they booked an inn at Loegres, they’d taken two rooms – a single-bed for Eizen and Rokurou and a double-bed for the rest – and Velvet would curl up with Phi in one bed while Magilou and Eleanor stiffly divided the other. But tonight was different, because when Eizen and Rokurou weren’t looking, Velvet had made a decision, and now Phi got to enjoy a bed all to himself while Magilou, Velvet, and Eleanor all cuddled into the other bed with no inhibitions.

“I hope so,” Eleanor remarked. “I’m almost scared of what’s happening over there.”

“Eh, just let ‘em punch each other and they’ll be fine,” Magilou suggested.

“That might be what happened,” Velvet remarked. “Though I didn’t hear any blows.”

“As long as they’ve stopped yelling,” Phi said mournfully. “I can’t sleep when they’re being so loud and angry.”

“Get used to it, kid,” Magilou told him. “When people are in love, they fight. Every kid knows what it’s like to hear Mommy and Daddy arguing through the wall. Or, in this case, Daddy and Daddy.”

“Are you three gonna fight?” Phi asked.

“Not unless Magilou steals all the covers,” Velvet teased. “Then it might have to come to spilling blood.”

“I cannot condone harming another for blanket theft,” Eleanor stated. “That said, Magilou, I get cold at night, so please don’t!”

“I make no promises,” Magilou said mischievously. “After all, I am a wicked witch.”

“Hm.” Velvet smiled. “Then I guess the therion will have to come to the rescue of the fair maiden.”

Eleanor blushed a deep pink.

“Siding against me?” Magilou pouted.

“Maybe I like fighting the wicked witch because it gives me a reason to mess with her,” Velvet admitted.

“I’ll take it,” Magilou stated, more satisfied than she let on.

“Now let’s get some sleep,” Velvet encouraged. “If they’ll let us. If not, I might have to break down the wall and make them.”

“I wouldn’t even stop you.” Eleanor turned over to hug her pillow.

Velvet kissed them both goodnight. Eleanor, being more reticent to touch, got a quick, chaste peck on the lips, which made her smile. Magilou, ever craving the sensual, received a longer kiss, with tongue play, and she sighed happily once it was broken. Phi doused the lights, and he and the three women he now considered his sisters (even if one was his aunt) shut their eyes for the night.


	18. Pajamaz

Maybe they shouldn’t have talked White Turtlez into so many discounts. Or made him run so many packages to Edna. But what else were they supposed to do in this economy?

Apparently, he’d snapped. Something something debt and a dark path and someone had almost smothered him in soy sauce and eaten him. So that had for some reason spurred him to try and murder all six of them on the spot?

(Really, it wasn’t that they weren’t aware, but that they chose to have that particular blind spot. Dark Turtlez’ lament fell on deaf ears; he earned no remorse.)

They’d had to beat him into submission, and he’d resorted to threatening them with facts about his nutritional value, which seemed to be all the value he believed he had left.

And as none of the party had the answer to cheer him, or really much cared to, it fell to the Katz. Dark Turtlez had made his assault in Katz Korner, which was a most bizarre place indeed. Eizen counted himself lucky to have seen such an elusive sight. And so a horde of Katz had turned up to watch the conflict in their square, feeling immense sympathy for the young Turtlez and offering him hope…as well as one other perk.

“It sounds like what you need is the Katz Pajamaz, meow!” one of them brought up.

“Katz…Pajamaz?” Dark Turtlez repeated.

“It’s a fun place to unwind, have a few drinks with friends, and cleanse the soul of all life’s pawblems, meow!” the Katz insisted.

Rokurou’s eyebrows went up. He liked the sound of that.

The catch: “And grown-ups only! You have to be two thousand to enter, meow.”

Rokurou really liked the sound of that.

The Katz led him away; “We’ll get you set up with all sorts of nice drinks, meow!”

“So…what is the Katz Pajamaz?” Velvet asked, hating that she even wanted to know.

“Well, Eleanor?” Phi looked to the redhead.

“I haven’t the slightest idea,” Eleanor replied, which was fitting, given that she was the sort of person who wouldn’t enjoy it one bit.

“It sounds like a good time!” Rokurou insisted. “We should go and check it out!”

“Let’s not,” Eizen grunted. “That’s not a path worth going down.”

“After all that,” Velvet sighed, “I still have no idea what the point was. Maybe there never was one to begin with.”

“Oh, no,” Magilou broke in, “I think today’s events held some significance. Just what’ll become of that Turtlez’ heart after the ‘cleansing,’ though, is hard to say…”

Velvet punctuated that with a hard sneeze, and the group moved to leave – though Rokurou caught Eizen’s shoulder and held him back.

“What?” Eizen sighed.

“Did you seriously think we all forgot?” Rokurou teased, giving him a little nudge. “Like the Katz Pajamaz wasn’t the first thing you noticed when you first got here.”

“Because it’s a location of interest,” Eizen argued. “That has nothing to do with…wanting to access it.”

“Oh, REALLY.” Rokurou smirked. “You know exactly what’s in there, don’t you?”

“Only rumors,” Eizen stated. His cheeks were tinted pink; “…Scandalous rumors.”

“Sooooooo is it just a bar, or…?”

“It’s a place where Katz and others can engage in all sorts of pleasures,” Eizen stated. “At least, so say the rumors. Drink is one. Dance is another.”

“C’mon, you like dancing, don’t you, Eizen?”

“Well…” Eizen flushed. “They also say the Katz Pajamaz is a place where you can go to have…other needs taken care of.”

“Ohhhhhh!” Rokurou remarked. “So it’s THAT kind of bar. Huh. Wonder if you have to stick with someone you get assigned or if you can bring your own partner. Won’t know until we ask, right?”

“You’re not suggesting.”

“Oh. I’m suggesting.”

Eizen sighed. “Fine. But only because I know I can’t get you to shut up about this until I agree to it.”

“You sure it’s not because you’re just a teeny bit curious?” Rokurou teased.

Eizen’s silence gave him the answer.

“Hey, you all go on ahead!” Rokurou waved to the others. “Eizen and I gotta check something out. Might be a while!”

As the two men headed off, Eleanor sighed, “They’re going to get drunk together at that Katz Pajamaz place, aren’t they?”

“Drunk is probably the least of it,” Magilou said flatly.

Eizen and Rokurou passed the bouncer easily (“Oh, yeah – he’s totally 3,000. Me? I just had my 2,000th birthday!”) and proceeded into a dark building lit with multicolored lamps that flashed thanks to well-placed magic-lantern panels. Dark Turtlez was getting set up at the bar, while on the other side of the entryway, a spacious dance floor was filled with Katz of all colors, swinging and swaying to the beat of a jazz band made up of some groovy Katz indeed.

And then a large wooden door marked with a heart.

“Welcomeow!” a blue Katz greeted. “Is this your first time at the Katz Pajamaz?”

“Yeah!” Rokurou replied, bopping a little to the sound of the saxophones. “Got any ideas for us seasoned two-millennium-year-olds who happen to be first-timers here?” He began to actually dance in place, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he swung his arms and snapped his fingers, and Eizen fell in love with him a frustrating third time.

“There are all sorts of a-meow-sments here for you to choose from, meow!” the Katz explained. “We have every sort of alcoholic beverage known to hu-meow-nity, and most non-alcoholic beverages! Our Kool Katz can play any song you want, so long as it’s either jazz or a Jellicle Song for Jellicle Katz!”

“A what?” Eizen was lost.

“Never mind.” The Katz waved it off. “And then behind the Door of Love…” He gestured to the door with the heart emblazoned upon it. “You can partner up with any of our licensed meow-sseuses for a relaxation session with a ‘happy ending,’ meow!”

“This isn’t trafficking, is it?” Eizen asked.

“Oh, no, no!” The Katz looked shocked at the thought. “All of our meow-sseuses are here by choice and get paid pawsomely for their work. They just like giving others the paw-leasure! We even have a few here who took the job just in case anyone like you would show up. They have a thing for human-looking creatures without fur. We call them ‘Skinnies’ as a term of endearment.”

“But say we didn’t want a Katz,” Rokurou suggested. “In fact, let’s say someone came in and brought their own partner.”

“There are reserved rooms for that, too!” the Katz explained. “And they’re filled with all kinds of ar-meow-sing cat toys, so you can try out things you can’t do at home!”

“Weeeeeeell?” Rokurou nudged Eizen. “Sounding any better?”

Eizen just cleared his throat, obviously flustered.

“Or we could just have a drink and dance,” Rokurou told him. “Your pick.”

“The girls and Laphicet will be waiting for us,” Eizen reminded him. “…Which is why if we’re going to reserve a room, we should do it now, and that’ll allow us to properly calculate how much time we have afterward to dance.”

“All riiiiiight!” Rokurou cheered.

“I pres-mew-me your pre-furred partners are each other, meow?” the Katz asked.

“Yes,” Eizen stated.

“Then follow me!” The blue Katz trotted off.

The minute the heart-door was closed, the music from the dance floor was completely inaudible. Eizen and Rokurou assumed the hallway was entirely soundproof, which is why they didn’t hear any lewd noises coming from behind any of the doors that lined the way. At last, they were brought to an open door.

“Take all the time you need, meow!” the Katz encouraged as the pair strode in and shut the door.

The bed was large enough to accommodate two people of their size, or bigger. Eizen sighed with relief. “And here I thought we’d be working on a cat bed.”

“Hey, Eizen!” Rokurou had thrown open a wardrobe beside the bed. “Come check this out!”

“Hm?” Eizen approached, then gasped.

The wardrobe bore a great assortment of leather, silver spikes, buckles, leashes and collars. And though Eizen would’ve liked to say he was horrified, the sight actually made him more excited than anything.

“Now I KNOW you wanna try this.” Rokurou pushed a braided whip into his hands. “You can pretend I screwed up on the – no, wait. Here’s the scenario: you caught a therion at sea, and now I’m your servant and have to do whatever you say. We can still start out with me screwing up if you wanna use that.”

Eizen swallowed the lump in his throat. It was all right, he told himself. He trusted Rokurou not to let any idle gossip escape this room. Only the two of them would ever know. And he had a lot of things he really wanted to try and had never thought it proper to think about.

Like most things in life, he had to seize the wheel and the moment.

“I like that,” Eizen stated. “But before we do anything else, we’re going to have to establish a safeword.”

What happens behind closed doors sometimes must stay behind closed doors, and this is a qualifier. Let it be said that Eizen and Rokurou left that little room exhilarated and energized enough to dance for quite a long time – so long that they earned a good scolding from Velvet when they finally got around to making the rendez-vous in Taliesin.


	19. Thousand

Apparently, causing Mount Killaraus to erupt had started some kind of domino effect that hat torn open a rift on the mountain that was attracting malakhim (and Katz, though the six travelers were pretty sure those were also malakhim) of all sorts, and so, before they could take care of Innominat, they had to go and paste a plaster on that situation, which was intensified when a talking ball of light that they didn’t know was a rappig (but should’ve guessed, since the last talking ball of light had been a pengyon) told them the last thing they should do is enter the rift.

Which meant they had to enter the rift.

They fought their way up the Heavenly Steppes until the light-rappig informed them that this place was somehow connected via gate to a special realm where seraphim lived. Whatever seraphim were.

And everyone expected a certain someone to know the answers to all the questions they had.

“Heavenly realms?” Rokurou summed up. “Thousands of years? This is starting to get crazy.”

And, as expected, Phi asked what everyone was thinking: “Eizen! Do you know anything about the heavenly realm?”

Eizen was tense in anticipation of queries about exactly this. Because this time, he knew a grand total of squat, and he hated that. “That voice said the Gate hasn’t been opened for thousands of years,” he explained. “No way I’d know about anything that old.”

Because it wasn’t enough for him to admit he didn’t know; he had to make sure everyone else knew his incredibly good reason for not knowing. The gap in his knowledge sure wasn’t his fault!

“I’ve only been alive a thousand years,” he continued, “so, yeah, it’s from well before my time.”

He’d been sure he had mentioned malakhim’s extended lifespan to his party mates. That they all had assumed his own age. Unfortunately, he’d been wrong.

“Wait.” Velvet’s eyes looked about ready to pop from their sockets. “Did you just say you’re a thousand years old?”

Oh, no.

“I knew you were older, but by that much?” Eleanor gasped. “I apologize! I should’ve been more respectful!”

Eizen was already gritting his teeth, trying to formulate a response, when Rokurou decided to throw in the one sentiment he knew would get under his skin most of all:

“Do you need me to massage your back or something, old man?”

“DROP IT!” Eizen hoped he wasn’t actually visibly blushing. “I’m still young by malak standards!”

“You ain’t kidding,” Magilou broke in. “Ol’ Grim’s a strapping 5017 years old!”

“Incredible!” Phi gasped.

“Since the subject has been broached…” Rokurou said mischievously.

Which led them to a discussion of how old Magilou actually was, and her reticence to answer only drove up the number in everyone’s heads. After all, she’d had time to ascend to the rank of legate, then abandon it.

(Though what Velvet and Eleanor wouldn’t say was that she looked very, very good for someone they suspected was middle-aged.)

* * *

On the journey, Eizen and Rokurou fought together like never before. Of course, they had a kill count going, and were even keel for most of it.

Thirty-to-thirty, they faced off against a particularly stubborn dragon.

“IT’S TIME TO SETTLE WHICH OF US – “ Rokurou cried, rushing the dragon from the front with a wicked slash.

“ – IS THE BETTER FIGHTER!” Eizen concluded, dealing the reptile an uppercut from behind once it had been knocked off-balance by Rokurou.

“BUT FIRST!” Rokurou’s blades bit into the dragon again, sending it reeling back down to Eizen.

“THIS ENEMY HERE – “ Eizen punched the dragon halfway across the room.

“HAS TO DIE!” they cried in unison, blades and fists swinging from either side.

They rushed to meet in the middle, one punch and one stab crossing through the dragon’s body, as they proclaimed their new attack “LAST LAUGH!”.

Once the dragon was felled, Eizen gave Rokurou a knowing look before saying, “All right, I concede that was a joint effort.”

“Thirty-one to thirty-one,” Rokurou told him. “No more ties after this, though.”

* * *

All that way just for a disillusioned seraph to tell them that the curse of malevolence was a loophole designed by seraphim to keep the races apart. Not what Eizen wanted to hear, knowing what germinated inside of him. So they left the rappig to her own musings.

The Katz they’d rescued along the way were thankful, though. Thankful enough to provide them with a full set of spa towels and guide them to a gender-segregated hot bath to take the edge off after all that nonsense. Which they needed, with Innominat looming on the horizon (quite literally).

The women had already taken to their side. Phi remained in the antechamber for a while, citing that he was shy.

“No problem.” Rokurou ruffled his hair. “I’d tell you something about personal space and comfort, but really, I don’t mind getting extra alone time with the sexiest person here.”

Eizen cleared his throat. One of these days, he had to figure out how to take compliments.

“I’ll yell before I come in,” Phi promised. “In case…you know…”

“It won’t escalate that far,” Eizen sighed. “…Though I still would announce first.”

That put Eizen and Rokurou in the steamy waters, and oh, was it divine. So much better than Meirchio, even. The temperature made them both feel as though they were basking in radiant sunlight turned fluid.

Eizen let out a long, loud “Ahhhh” of relaxation, leaning against the wall of the pool. “I can actually feel most of my extraneous malevolence dissipating,” he sighed.

“Doesn’t get any better than this, all right,” Rokurou agreed, leaning back as well. Then, giving Eizen a sly look, “Wait. If your malevolence level is good right now…my offer from earlier still stands.”

“What offer?”

“Your back, old man.”

“Gah – “ Eizen flinched. “I KNEW you said that to make me flustered.”

Rokurou laughed; “And it worked! But no, seriously. I was also lookin’ for an excuse. And you gotta be tense after all those fights.”

“Probably no more than you.”

“Hey, dueling dragons makes me MORE relaxed if anything. Don’t even worry about me. Now, if you’ve got any knots that need working out…”

Eizen contemplated it. Then scooted closer to Rokurou on the pool bench. “All right. I am carrying a lot of tension, physically speaking.”

They repositioned, angling on the bench so Rokurou was more or less sitting behind Eizen, able to lay hands on his broad, pale shoulders. Rokurou started off by simply running his hands over the surface of Eizen’s skin, establishing contact, making him feel stimulated.

Then he dug in the heel of a hand beneath Eizen’s shoulder blade – right where he was the most constricted – and began to work it. Eizen let out an involuntary moan.

“Be careful,” he warned, “or you WILL escalate things past where we want them.”

“You want me to stop?”

“No. Not yet.”

Eizen lost track, after a while, of how long Rokurou had been at it. The malak was melting. He felt like at any moment, he could just dissolve into the water itself. Nothing ached anymore, and the battle strain of the Steppes was a distant, dreamlike memory.

Rokurou knew he had little more that needed doing at this point; he’d softened every inch of Eizen’s back musculature. But he had one devilish little idea that he had to carry out before all was said and done.

He scooped up the hot water in his cupped hands, then let it trickle slowly from the back of Eizen’s neck downward.

And the malak let out a satisfied “Mmmmm.”

“And now that I know what you like,” Rokurou declared, “you can ask for that treatment any old time.”

“Do I want to know how you got so good at that?” Eizen asked as he turned to lean against the wall once more.

“Intuition, believe it or not,” Rokurou replied, also resuming a proper sitting position.

After a few moments in blissful silence, Rokurou sighed, “Almost hate that we gotta leave this behind to finish the fight.”

“You? Not wanting to finish a fight?”

“Don’t tell me you want to leave these hot springs for the next thousand years.”

Eizen smirked. “Perhaps not.”

By that time, Phi had arrived, and was delighted to feel the warmth of the water as he sank in beside the other two. Bienfu finally showed up – no doubt he’d been trying to get a peep of the women, but had been blocked at every angle by the respectful Katz – and did a cannonball into the pool.

It was heaven. So much so, all four of them simply sat back and let their souls drift right out of their bodies.


	20. Ghost

It was over.

Artorius had been slain. Innominat – no, Laphi – and Velvet were locked away, in a state of perpetual tranquil dream, keeping each other from imploding. Phi wasn’t Phi or Laphicet anymore, but Maotelus: a protector of the world.

The Silver Flames of Purification washed over all, and most daemons were cured of the blight. Not Rokurou, of course, because it had stopped being a blight to him a long time ago, and being human would’ve been such an anticlimax. Nor could Eizen lose the time-bomb inside of him that Theodora had infected him with; it was too dense, too deep, too dark. But at least now, he wouldn’t have to worry about picking up so much residual malevolence from humans, as he was now invisible to those who didn’t have enough resonance to perceive him. All the better for him to keep his freedom.

And so the world was saved. But even more importantly: Eleanor, Magilou, Eizen, and Rokurou were no longer under threat from the Abbey. And that was what they’d wanted all along, even if it had taken challenging the gods to accomplish it.

In the aftermath, they split in two groups: Eleanor and Magilou here, Eizen and Rokurou there. The former began to chatter right away; the latter two stared into each other’s eyes a while.

Then Eizen sighed; “I think we’re both on the same page about what happens now.”

“Yeah, I gotta be on the move, lookin’ for the next big fight,” Rokurou stated. “Not really gonna find that if I stay on a boat.”

“And being away from the sea doesn’t suit me,” Eizen said. “At least not for very long. Now I can admit that’s the truth that keeps me apart from Edna.”

“Well, I mean…” Rokurou shrugged. “I love you. I think I always will, or at least, I hope so. But I’m a daemon. It’s not gonna kill me to not see you for a few weeks.”

“Same, for a malak,” Eizen replied. “It’s like you said back at Port Cadnix. As long as we know each other is out there, then we know we have someone to love. That said, I won’t keep away from you forever. For one, I’ll send you a sylphjay, every day at sundown. If I’m going to be the ship’s ghost, I want to at least be able to tell someone about my adventures.”

“Hey, lookin’ forward to it.” Rokurou grinned. “And your guys gotta need a hired blade, right? I’ll put in a word with Benwick. I may not be built for sea life, but I’ve got more than a few voyages in me.”

“And I’ll find you on land,” Eizen vowed. “I want to hear about your adventures as well.”

“Oh, I can go ON about them and you know it.”

“So this is it,” Eizen declared. “We’re going to take different paths – “

“But they’ll cross again,” Rokurou said, raising a hand to place over his heart. “We’ll make them.”

“If the sylphjays stop coming,” Eizen told Rokurou, “you can assume I’m a dragon.”

He reached out, brushing back Rokurou’s curtain of hair, running his fingers over the black flesh of the daemon half. “And if you’re going to be proud of this,” he advised, “in a world where daemonblight doesn’t matter anymore, you should start wearing your hair back.”

“Oh, I’m gonna,” Rokurou assured. “The people gotta see my good side.”

He took a step closer to Eizen, and they moved at the same time to share the kiss that closed not the book but a chapter.

They made a rendez-vous with Magilou and Eleanor. “So,” Magilou posed, “work out how the roads you must take are going to intertwine? I know that’s what we’ve been doing.”

“It’s sad that Magilou’s goals and mine don’t exactly…mesh,” Eleanor admitted.

“But we’ll keep in touch,” Magilou assured. “This wicked witch has to keep an eye on her pretty princess, after all! …Sheesh, I’m starting to like you as much as Velvet.”

Eleanor was tongue-tied, pink in the face, arms behind her back as she swayed back and forth.

“We’ve been making the same agreement,” Eizen said with a nod.

“Looks like we’re going all four ways of the crossroads,” Rokurou observed. “Kinda fitting, for us. We went in this to get what we wanted for ourselves.”

“But we did make a family along the way,” Eleanor said shyly. “…Didn’t we?”

“No,” Rokurou said flatly. “I hate you.”

“Wha – “ Eleanor gasped, flinching back.

Rokurou broke out laughing. “Okay, now THAT’S the sibling rivalry I never got to have as a kid! Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t have traded my final battle with Shigure for anything, but it’s nice to have something lower-stakes. Nah, you’re cool, Eleanor. I like you.”

He followed this up by putting her in a mild headlock (“HEY!”) and ruffling her hair until one of her pigtails fell out.

“I’d wish you calm seas,” Magilou told Eizen, “but something tells me that’s not what you want, now, is it?”

“You know me too well,” Eizen replied. “Which is the same reason I’m not wishing you safe travels.”

“Ooh, astute. We really are four of a kind, aren’t we? Let’s not be total strangers. Maybe a lunch date in a year or so. See where we all ended up in life.”

“I’d like that,” Eizen agreed.

And from there, they scattered: north, south, east, west.

* * *

But within the year, the gangplank of the Van Eltia was lowered for a certain swordsman.

“Hey, Benwick!” Rokurou greeted as he stepped aboard. “How’s the sailing?”

“Haha, Rokurou!” Benwick slapped the swordsman on the back, both of them beaming. “You haven’t changed a bit!”

“Duh. I’m a daemon. You, on the other hand, are actually starting to look like a grown-up.”

“Hey! I was a grown-up when you knew me!”

“Sure didn’t act like it.”

The two of them broke into simultaneous guffaws.

“But seriously,” Benwick sighed, “having you onboard is gonna be a huge relief for the crew. There’s a new pirate ship that’s been trawling the outer seas, and they’ve been wreaking havoc on anyone who crosses their path. It probably sounds dumb that we still wanna go out of our way to the outer seas, but – “

“It’s what Aifread would want,” Rokurou said with a nod.

“Yeah!” Benwick grinned. “And having a Rangetsu on board means we can’t lose!”

“Do I still have my same old hammock?” Rokurou asked.

“Always!” Benwick replied.

“Question,” Rokurou asked. “How’ve things been without…you know…?”

“Oh.” Benwick hung his head. “You know…sometimes I still think I can see him out of the corner of my eye. But that’s ridiculous, isn’t it? He’s gone, and I gotta get used to it.”

Rokurou knew Eizen had been waiting for that entrance. The “ship’s ghost,” invisible to all but one guest onboard, dropped from the rigging to land behind Benwick, creeping toward Rokurou.

“That’s rough,” Rokurou said with an excellent poker face.

“It’s just so weird, though!” Benwick mused. “Sometimes, things happen around here that seem like they’d be his fault. Like finding history books open that no one will admit to reading, and I hear the sound of that coin flipping in the quiet of the night. Gah, I shouldn’t be saying this. You had to lose him, too. I’m probably putting salt water on the wound.”

“It’s fine,” Rokurou said. “He really meant a lot to me. In fact…sometimes I swear I can see him, too.”

He made direct eye contact with Eizen, who shook his head and sighed. Truly a terrible joke.

“But it’s like Aifread, right?” Rokurou pointed out. “We gotta remember the good times and move on. Hey, how about we toast to him?”

He slipped a hand behind his back.

“Yeah!” Benwick agreed. “I’ll go get the – “

“No need,” Rokurou stated.

And Eizen slipped a sake jug into his hand, which he produced from behind his back.

“WHAT THE – “ Benwick flinched backward. “WHERE’D THAT COME FROM?”

“Oh, this?” Rokurou played innocent. “Had it the whole time. Didn’t you see it in my hand?”

“No – I – “ Benwick sighed. “Unless you’re secretly carrying two cups, I gotta go get those.”

“Nah. None of those.”

As Benwick hurried off, glancing over his shoulder every now and then, Eizen told Rokurou, “I was hesitant at first, but messing with him is gonna be more fun than I thought.”

“Do me a favor,” Rokurou asked. “If I ever lose my resonance – “

“Not likely, since your soul refuses to be purified.”

“But say I do.” Rokurou grinned. “You gotta stalk me around and do stuff like spilling my drinks so it takes me a while to realize it’s you messing with me.”

“I’ll take you up on that,” Eizen promised. “In the meantime, we do have to be careful about hiding our intimacy from others. If you get walked in on expressing physical affection to an invisible man, that’s going to raise a lot of questions.”

“Ooh, so we’re playing the sneak-around game,” Rokurou replied coyly. “How enticing.”

“Rokurou!” Benwick returned with the cups.

They sat together, cross-legged on the deck as the others rushed about to set the rigging. A cup of sake was poured for each.

“To First Mate Eizen,” Benwick said as he raised his cup. “Man, was that guy scary.”

“Yeah.” Rokurou raised his own. “Kinda bossy, too, now that I think about it.”

And from where he was seated right beside Rokurou, Eizen yelled, “WHAT? ROKUROU! THAT’S NOT FUNNY!”

It was all Rokurou could do to not spew the drink out of his mouth in a raucous laugh.


	21. Stonebury

The old man only half believed that the strange travelers he’d met earlier in the year would come back to purchase seven barrels of radishbell-barley wine, but one of them, the swordsman, did return. With his hair pinned back, it was now apparent to the brewer that the swordsman was a daemon and perhaps had been all along, but the rumors going around now said daemons weren’t contagious or even destructive anymore.

He’d managed to carry out all seven barrels by himself, or so it looked to the naked eye. It had seemed a little suspicious how some of them seemed to be rolling on their own, but the old man simply figured the swordsman was taking advantage of the natural gravity of the hill.

He even less believed with certainty that the swordsman would return in another four years, but all the same, he steeped two barrels, making sure no one else touched them.

And in four years’ time, Rokurou and Eizen came strolling down the Aldina Plain toward the Stonebury gates.

“Looks like we made it,” Rokurou told Eizen. “At least for round two. Think we can pull off the fifty-year one?”

“That’s going to be more of a challenge,” Eizen replied. “Which means you’re going to take it just to prove you can, aren’t you?”

“You know it.”

As usual, Eizen was invisible to the village, so Rokurou had to conduct the transaction. “The last stuff was so good,” he informed the brewer, “I can’t WAIT to get drunk off my ass on this batch.”

“Whatever happened to your friend, anyhow?” the old man asked. “The one whose idea it was to treat the crew of his ship.”

“Oh.” Rokurou put on a faux expression of grief. “Yeah, he’s gone. Died in a…in an avalanche. Off Hellawes. You know what happens when you try practicing singing your sea shanties at the bottom of a mountain.”

Eizen groaned. At least this time, Rokurou hadn’t tried to claim he’d died by tripping on his own feet and rolling down Mount Killaraus.

“Oh, what a shame,” the old man said. “So unfortunate. You know, I always had a feeling about the two of you.”

“Trust me,” Rokurou affirmed, “there were lots of feelings. I’ll be splitting this barrel with him in spirit.”

“May the Empyreans bless his soul.”

Eizen sighed as Rokurou hefted the barrel toward the tavern. “You don’t have to embellish how I ‘die’ in these stories, you know.”

“Aww, but seeing you get worked up is half the reason I do it,” Rokurou admitted. “No, wait. More like seventy percent. So I was thinking next time, I’d say you fell into the Cauldron, but that’s giving you way too many deaths in Northgand. You gotta die in Eastgand one of these days.”

“What, you’re going to say I got trampled by a prickleboar?”

“No. But a herd of prickleboars might work.”

They took up the exact table where they’d seen Zaveid splitting a drink with the absent Theodora, and for poetry’s sake, Rokurou sat where Zaveid had, extracting two glasses’ worth from the barrel and sliding one across from him.

The other patrons pitied him: just like that strange white-haired man from all those years ago, he was offering a drink to a partner who couldn’t imbibe it.

Except Eizen very well could, and proceeded to do so. “I think you like getting people to pity you,” he accused.

“Hey, it’s not every day you get to share a memorial drink with the person you’re remembering,” Rokurou teased. He then took a sip; “Oh, SHIT. This is the GOOD stuff.”

“I know,” Eizen remarked. “I’m convinced there are big things in store for this town, if based on this wine alone.”

“Huh.” Rokurou took his next sip pensively.

“Something wrong?”

“Well, you know.” Rokurou shrugged. “It’s not that living on the road isn’t absolutely the adventure I always wanted. But I’m kinda tired of making camp on the side of the highway and sleeping in the dirt. Been thinking maybe I should…gah, this sounds like such an old fuddy-duddy sentiment.”

“I hate that I’m playing this card.” Eizen sighed. “Rokurou, I’m a thousand years old. If anyone here is an old fuddy-duddy, it’s me.”

“I was just thinking maybe I need a home base to return to after my grand adventures,” Rokurou stated. “A place to keep any cool new swords I pick up on the way. None as special as Kurogane, of course. He’s with me wherever I go. Can’t really hear him anymore, but I read your letters out loud to him, and I think he likes the Van Eltia saga.”

“Good to hear.”

“Anyway, I wasn’t sure where to settle down,” Rokurou confessed. “Not going back home. That ship’s sailed.”

“I’m happy to hear it,” Eizen stated.

“And everywhere else is just…a place I’ve passed through,” Rokurou went on. “Nothing really tying me to anywhere.”

“So you were wondering about here,” Eizen filled in.

“I mean, it’s as good a place as any.”

“It doesn’t have the trade advantages of a port,” Eizen mused. “Or the aesthetic appeal. Then again, that’s the sea-dog side of me talking. But I think there’s something to be said for settling down in the place that brewed the best alcohol you’ve had.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” Rokurou smirked as he took the next sip. “Damn, this stuff is good. Anyway, not to get all sentimental and softhearted on you or anything, but it’s also the place we keep coming back together, so that’s more I can say about Cadnix or Taliesin.”

“I understand,” Eizen said casually, though really, he was touched.

“So? Whaddaya think?”

“Why are you asking me? It’s your decision.”

“Right,” Rokurou replied. “You’re not gonna stop visiting me just because I picked a landlocked village, are you?”

“I might feel utterly betrayed, but no.” He remembered at the last second to actively smirk so Rokurou knew the statement about being betrayed was just a jest. Here of all places, he should have remembered how good he was at comedy. “Actually, having to make the trip this far inland will make it more special, I think.”

“Hey, that’s great! But I’m coming out to find you and the Van Eltia, too. It’s just a base, not where I’m gonna stay forever. Drop a sylphjay first before you visit to make sure I’ll be home.”

“I understand.” Eizen grinned. “So. What have the latest adventures of the rogue Rangetsu been like?”

“You are not gonna believe this,” Rokurou told him. “So the other day, I get this tip that Nectar of all things is going back on the market, and I’m thinkin’…I gotta get in on that action.”

To the other patrons, he was gesticulating wildly while telling a story to an empty seat. Such a shame he couldn’t let go. He obviously loved his lost one very much.

* * *

It was Stonebury that Rokurou chose, in the end. He had a modest house with a simple yard. His neighbors were surprised that he never grew any crops; he picked up enough gald doing less-than-legal ventures on the road. It was just a nice, quiet place to come back to and train, his cries of “Sei! Sei! Sei!” echoing over the village at night as he swung a practice staff.

The strange daemon swordsman became such an iconic fixture of the village that when he was away on his travels, sometimes for months at a time, he was missed.

Eizen continued to visit him. Sometimes it would take him a couple of months to get back around to Stonebury. Sometimes a year and change. But whenever he sent a sylphjay requesting a visit, no matter where in the world Rokurou was, the swordsman would race back to Midgand, not even stopping to sleep for the night.

They would share a drink and a few stories at Rokurou’s humble home, then a passionate night, or perhaps a week straight of them.

And sometimes they adventured together. Not often, but they wrote some tales of their own, of mighty monsters slain by fist and sword, of deeds of bravery (if not always morality) done by the daemon who couldn’t purify and his invisible man.

Rokurou’s lifespan was longer than that of a human man, but not as long as that of a malak. As the years passed, things changed. They stopped calling the village “Stonebury” as it grew, and it evolved into a metropolis called “Lastonbell.” Rokurou’s house was still small, fenced off, just an ascetic practice arena on the outside and a place to house aggregated swords on the inside.

While Eizen’s hair remained golden and his skin supple, Rokurou eventually began to change, shocks of silver running through his hair, little wrinkles appearing at the corners of his eyes to show how much he’d laughed over his life.

But one day, Eizen began to change, too, and he tried to hide it at first: the crusty scales he was growing over one shoulder, the way that arm was starting to lengthen and thin out. It was a slow process. He’d suspected as much when he’d seen Rokurou’s mother, still wearing human armor and walking bipedally. But it left him with a building sense of dread. It might’ve been better to wake up and go mad all at once rather than bear the constant reminders.

Even worse, once his draconic features began to show, Eizen could no longer touch Rokurou without fear.

“I’m sorry,” he said as they sat, cross-legged, across from each other on mattresses set atop tatami mats on the floor. “I…can’t.”

“Hm.” Rokurou, now quite old and gray, thought it over. “No, you don’t need to apologize…I think we just need to get creative. Hang on. I’ve got an idea. Might be tacky, but…”

He explained.

Eizen nodded. “I want to try it. I think it’ll be more effective than you think.”

“So. Start with the face?”

“Yeah. We’ll see where it goes from there.”

Both men shut their eyes, clasping at their faces with their own hands. Eizen, unsure where to begin, simply said rather awkwardly, “I’m…touching your face now.”

“Whoa,” Rokurou said, already buried in the illusion. “I swear your cheekbones keep getting better with age. Is that some kinda malak secret?”

Eizen, feeling the cue, ran his thumbs over his cheeks.

“Yeah, those are nice,” Rokurou went on. “Your face is SCULPTED. That’s not even scratching the rest of you, of course.”

“You’re beautiful,” Eizen replied. “I forgot how even the smallest parts of you can captivate me. Like here, the curve of your neck – “

“Oh, yeah, like this on you?”

They moved their hands downward, each on himself still.

Those hands moved progressively lower through the evening, the words exchanged helping to maintain the illusion that each had his hands on the other, that the other had his hands on him. They moved in perfect synchrony so as not to break it, touching the same parts at the same time, directed by their descriptions.

Not a perfect system. Definitely a wistful one. But satisfying in the end, all the same.

* * *

One day, Eizen entered Rokurou’s training yard in Lastonbell to find the swordsman collapsed on the ground.

“ROKUROU!” Eizen reached out for the fallen body, then immediately recoiled. Even getting into the daemon’s space was sending a sharp pain through Eizen’s hands, which, by now, were bent and clawed, the arms too long and too thin and growing a coat of scales.

“Ei…zen…?” The murmur assured the malak that Rokurou was still alive. Rokurou stirred, heaving himself into a sitting position. Then he sighed mournfully. “Damn.”

“Are you all right?” Eizen asked.

“No.” Rokurou pouted. “I’m old. I’m dying SLOWLY. I’d wanted to go out in a blaze of glory, not like this. Soon, I won’t even be able to pick up a sword anymore. How am I supposed to keep going when I can’t hold a sword?”

Eizen wasn’t sure, at first, what to say. He simply sat down beside Rokurou, thinking of his own time left. He already had a goodbye letter penned for Edna, ready to ship out with a Turtlez whenever the time was right.

Then Rokurou said, “I think I know how I want this to end.”


	22. Last

The massive dragon, dark with violet tints, swooped its way down over Lastonbell, letting out a stream of flame from its jaws as it descended.

The citizens panicked, of course. They hurried down the town’s thoroughfare, seeking shelter as the fires rose around them, searing and sun-gold.

What wasn’t consumed by fire was knocked down by immense claws and a whipping tail on the dragon’s landing. A roar echoed throughout the burning metropolis.

That roar was answered by a war cry of “EEEEIIIIIIZEEEEEEEEEN!”

The yaksha, the eccentric being of Lastonbell that had always secretly craved blood, came rushing the dragon, fast as he could on his age-weakened legs. He drew not the dual blades he always fought with, but the enormous dark sword that he carried on his back as the mark of his proudest victory.

The dragon turned to see the flashing red eye of the small beast running toward him. A lizardlike tongue poked out to lick scaly jaws. A stupid little snack, hurtling right to him.

Eizen’s mind was almost completely gone. What stared at Rokurou was a purely feral reptile.

Rokurou launched himself into the air and gave Kurogane a hefty swing.

The dragon parried with his metallically hard tail, sending Rokurou flying, but the yaksha skidded to a halt atop a nearby roof from which he planned his next assault. Rokurou leapt down onto the dragon’s back, running up the length of his spine.

The dragon beat his wings once, twice, taking Rokurou up into the air to shake him off.

“Come on, Eizen,” Rokurou growled. “Don’t hold back on me now! You still need Zaveid to kill you, not me!”

He took a mighty swing at the back of the dragon’s neck, only to finally fall off-balance, plummeting to the earth below.

But his hand caught onto one of the dragon’s dangling claws and held fast. Kurogane cut a wicked slash into the dragon’s stomach; it would scar.

“If you die here,” Rokurou growled, “I’LL NEVER FORGIVE YOU!”

The dragon was sent into a tailspin, swooping to brush Rokurou off against the street stones. Rokurou was dragged against the ground so hard that those stones broke upon impact, leaving him with bruises and cuts aplenty.

“Now THAT’S MORE LIKE IT!” Rokurou yelled, using Kurogane to give the dragon’s claw enough pain that he could loosen the grip and worm out of it. “I hope you remember this one, Eizen! WHEN I’M THIS CLOSE, I WON’T MISS!”

The dragon was now flying at him head-on, and Rokurou braced both blades. “FORM ZERO!” he cried.

And the dragon suddenly halted, his animalistic jaws taking on a soft expression. Wondering why he was doing this.

“No, no, NO,” Rokurou growled. “Not now. Not NOW.”

He had to stop, himself, because this wasn’t the way to win. “WHY THE HELL ARE YOU RECOGNIZING ME NOW?” he yelled at the dragon. “OF ALL THE TIMES YOU COULD’VE PICKED!”

The dragon backed away, apprehensive. No. This was wrong. The small, loud beast wasn’t a foe, nor was it something to eat. It was something, someone beloved.

Rokurou…

The yaksha sighed. “But if it’s not today, then it’s not today. Ufemew…”

The dragon instinctively purred at that name.

Rokurou took two more steps forward, putting out his hand. “I didn’t want to say goodbye.”

The dragon – Eizen – Ufemew Wexub lowered his massive head, pressing his snout to the palm of his lover –

Friend –

Rival –

Enemy.

Target.

For a moment, Rokurou didn’t understand why the growling coming from the dragon was getting lower, more intense. But then it hit him. Malevolence. He was spewing pure malevolence from his palm straight into the dragon’s face.

Well. That was one way to finish the fight.

The dragon was blind to him now, only bent on destroying. He lunged forth, Rokurou barely dodging his snapping jaws, and the fight was on once more.

In the meantime, the Lastonbell citizens worked on dousing the flames, bringing buckets of water and throwing smothering earth. All the while, they let the daemon and the dragon do battle in the heart of their home. Eventually, one had to win.

It wasn’t sudden. The dragon whittled Rokurou down little by little. The daemon racked up the bruises, the gashes, a cracked rib that sent pains through him with every breath.

Battered almost to his limit, Rokurou decided it was time. “It’s now or never, Eizen,” he snarled, eye blazing crimson.

He rose into the air; “FORM ZERO!”

The dragon’s jaws yawned.

“SUNDER!”

The tail moving so quickly, it was like the crack of a whip.

And Rokurou, having blown his shot completely, lay broken on the ground, his limbs shattered. The immense reptile loomed over him, ready to devour him, to finish the job.

But this was what Rokurou had wanted. Better than dying old and weak.

“Goodbye, Ufemew Wexub,” he muttered, eyes shut tight.

His second-to-last thought was that this really was the best way to go out. What a story this would make: the yaksha who had battled the dragon of Lastonbell to his dying breath!

His last thought was that Zaveid had better hurry up and send Eizen to wherever it was Rokurou was going, because now more than ever, Eizen owed him a fair fight.

~END~


End file.
